


Evil Author Day 2019

by StephaniD



Category: Carmilla (Web Series), Miraculous Ladybug, Multi-Fandom, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, Person of Interest (TV), Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, The Platoon of Power Squadron (Web Series)
Genre: EAD, Evil Author Day, Multi, Period Typical Attitudes, akumanette, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StephaniD/pseuds/StephaniD
Summary: EAD is when you post WIPs you may or may not ever finish :PChapter titles:Royal WeViolent Bisexuals (smut)Broadway Newsies!AU CarmillaPoPS!AU CarmillaAkumanette Pt. 2





	1. Royal We

**Author's Note:**

> DS9. Set early in season 7. Just something I had to get out of my head. Without further ideas, this will probably just remain here as a snippet.

Ezri yawned as she entered the wardroom. 

“Raktajino.” Kira told the replicator. “Dax, can I get you one?” 

“Please. I tossed and turned all night.” She sighed as she sat down. 

“These Cardassian beds can do that to you. I half believe they switched them to the worst beds they could before abandoning the station.” Chief O’Brien smiled. Ezri smiled at Kira in thanks and took a sip from the mug she'd set down in front of her, swallowing with a grimace. “Are the replicators acting up again?” O’Brien sighed. 

“Mine’s fine.” Kira replied. 

“It's not the replicator, it's me. When I get tired I forget who likes what. I used to like raktajino.” Ezri explained. 

“Before you were joined?” Doctor Bashir asked. 

“When I was Curzon and Jadzia. I mean, when Dax was Curzon and Jadzia. They used to like raktajino. Ugh, I'm going to have trouble with my pronouns forever.” Ezri returned the raktajino to the replicator and got a Fanalian tea instead. 

“Maybe you could try speaking in the third person? Jadzia did sometimes when speaking about past hosts, and while it was a little weird, it prevented confusion.” Kira suggested. 

“Chief, would it be possible for the computer to recognize Ezri's voice and ask for confirmation if she orders a raktajino?” Worf asked. 

“Would that help?” O’Brien turned to Ezri, who shrugged. “I'll see what I can do.” 

“Thanks, Chief.” She smiled. 


	2. Violent Bisexuals (smut)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated E for being pure PWP.

“Ooh, he's hot.” Shaw's smile froze on her face as Root's voice was unexpectedly in her ear. “I mean, not ‘hood and zip ties in a CIA safe house with 10 hours to kill’ hot,” the taller woman continued and Shaw's gut twinged pleasurably at the memory “but I kinda get it.” 

It had started with Shaw being annoyed, like she usually was when Root was involved. While Root could take care of herself, she tended to do the bare minimum when Shaw was around. Such as making Shaw handle the CIA guy while she ate an apple. So after literal hours of Root flirting while Shaw disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled her gun, then played solitaire, her patience had been wearing thin. So she played along. 

Shaw pushed Root up against a wall, kissed her hard (Root was a good kisser), ran her hands all over her body (Root was hot), and zapped Root with her own taser. Shaw dragged Root into the bedroom while she recovered from the shock, only giving her a smirking “Turnabout is fair play.” as an explanation. Lust seemed to have clouded the brilliant woman's thoughts, because she happily got on the bed and let Shaw zip-tie her wrists to the bed posts. All it took was Shaw holding up the zip-ties and raising an eyebrow.   
“I know I drugged you this morning, Sameen, but I don't think that's a good idea right now. I’ll go willingly, and you can stick something in me another time.” Root flirted.  
“I’ll hold you to it.” Shaw murmured with a smirk. 

Now she was in control. She unselfconsciously stripped bare from the waist down and climbed on the bed. Root's pupils were dilated as Shaw knelt above her. She positioned herself above Root's face, the bound woman looked almost reverent as she tongued Shaw's folds, circled her clit, and plunged inside. It would be more difficult to bring Shaw to orgasm without use of her hands, but they still had 6 or 7 hours until pickup, and she was confident in Root's abilities to walk her talk. Her hips ground in time with Root's thrusts and she gasped as the woman below her showed off, pinching her clit with her lips, nipping her, even licking her perineum when she had the chance. One of Shaw's hands shot out to grab the headboard, the other fisting in Root's hair. Shaw's movements became less rhythmic and more erratic as her orgasm neared, until she tensed up and came with a moan. She fell backwards from exhaustion, her head landing on Root's thigh. 

Because she didn't want to give Root much time to rest, she pushed herself up after a minute. Root's hair was a little messed up, her mouth and chin still slick from Shaw's fluids. Shaw pulled the black bag over Root's head.  
“Ooooh, what now, Sameen? Sensory deprivation?” She flirted some more. Shaw didn't respond, only pulled off all of Root's clothes she could, pushing up her shirt and unclipping her bra to get at her breasts. 

Root twitched when Shaw blew cool air across her nipples, making them tense more. She licked, sucked, and bit one while she played with the other with her fingers, swirling around and pinching it. Root's back arched when Shaw pinched her nipples and pulled, though she couldn't tell if it was from pain, pleasure, or both. She nipped at Root's neck under her shirt collar, biting and sucking at points, sure to leave bruises. Root was already breathing a little heavy. Shaw licked down Root's torso, leaving more bruises on the expanse of pale skin. When she got to Root's groin, Shaw diverted to her thighs. Root groaned softly and Shaw smacked her thigh hard. Hard enough to earn a yelp and an annoyed “ _ Sameen _ .”  
“You will take what I am willing to give without complaint.” Shaw growled. Root's hips twisted, thighs rubbing together.  
“Understood.” She replied breathily. Shaw continued to tease, licking and nipping the inside of Root's thighs, and just before her hairline, sucking bruises onto her hip bones, and Root didn't make another noise of dissatisfaction, though her hips would sometimes jerk with want. 

Shaw licked up Root's folds slowly but forcefully, the bound woman crying out at the direct sensation where she needed it most. She sucked Root's clit hard, while thrusting into her with 2 fingers.  
“Oh god, Sameen!” She cried.  
“Tell me when you're close.” Shaw scratched her nails down Root's thigh. Root nodded frantically in the hood. Bound, her hands had balled into fists. Her hips kept time with Shaw's thrusts. 

“Close, I’m close!” Root cried a minute later. Shaw kept up her ministrations for a few more seconds before getting off the bed. “Sameen?” Root asked, breathing hard. Shaw quickly made a pair of short chains out of zip-ties and bound Root's ankles to the bedposts, too. “Sameen, this isn't a very good way to pay me back for a few minutes ago.” She chided. She had yet to understand that this was payback for so much more than that. She was bound spread-eagled, unable to bring herself to the orgasm that was so close. The damned Machine in her ear couldn't help her now. She was at Shaw's mercy, of which there was very little. Shaw stood still for a few minutes, letting Root calm down, letting her wonder if Shaw was still in the room.

Then she attacked again, her tongue thrusting into Root, the bound woman jerking and crying out in surprise, then sensation. Shaw pressed her thumb to Root's clit, moving it in a rough, punishing circle, making her cry out again. 


	3. Broadway Newsies!AU Carmilla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katherine's song "Write It Good" reminded me SO MUCH of Laura that I wanted to rewrite the musical with the cast of Carmilla. I found the script online and this ended up pretty much being the script with the names and pronouns changed. I may have the energy to start reworking it in the future, but idk. 
> 
> Jack Kelly, the flirty dreamer whose instinct is to run from trouble - Carmilla Karnstein  
> Katherine Plumber/Pulitzer, the intrepid young female reporter - Laura Hollis/Hearst  
> Davey, the loyal brains - Danny  
> Les, the one who is funny by taking everything seriously - Perry  
> Crutchy, the comedic relief with a difference who gets taken out mid-story - LaFontaine  
> Newsies - Kirsch, Sarah-Jane, Natalie, Betty  
> Spot Conlon - Melanippe Callis  
> World -> Journal

 

New York City, 1899

 

*Skipped songs: Santa Fe (Prologue), Carrying the Banner

Carmilla and the other Newsies were hanging around the circulation gates for The Sun, waiting for them to open when a good looking young couple passed by. Kirsch approached the young woman, straight light brown hair falling over her shoulders, but Carmilla got the feeling she wasn't like that. She made Carmilla’s heart beat fast.  
“Well, hello, hello, hello, beautiful!” Kirsch grinned. Carmilla pushed him a step back.  
“Woah, step down, Kirsch. Nothin’ concerns you here.” She turned to the young woman with a smile. “Good mornin’ Miss! May I interest you in the latest news?”“But the paper isn't out yet.” She replied with a glance at the closed gates.  
“I would be delighted to deliver it to you personally.” Carmilla gently took the young woman's hand, raising it to her mouth.  
“No, I’ve got a headline for you.” The young woman smiled, taking her hand back.  “Cheeky girl gets nothing for her troubles.” She walked off as the other Newsies whooped and hollered at Carmilla being shot down.  
“Back to the bench, slugger, you struck out!” Kirsch laughed. Carmilla shoved him, watching the girl walk out of her life wistfully. 

While they were all buying their morning papes, a couple new girls showed up. The taller redhead, Danny Lawrence, seemed smart and scrappy if needed. The curly-haired redhead, Lola Perry, like Carmilla’s friend LaFontaine, liked being called by her last name for some reason. Carmilla decided to take them under her wing, if only to make a little profit and make sure they didn’t get soaked or starve, green as they were. 

*Skipped songs: The Bottom Line

At the end of the day they were just splitting the profits when Snyder appeared. Carmilla lead the new kids and Snyder on a chase through the city, ending at the burlesque house to get away from Snyder and catch their breaths. Amusingly, Perry seemed flustered to be around the barely-clad women. Carmilla explained The Refuge and Snyder “The Spider” to them and greeted Medda, who allowed them to stay for the show (after telling the new girls Carmilla had painted the backdrop) and even pointed Carmilla to a viewing box. She peeked her head in to find her, the young woman with the light brown hair who’d been so flip early that morning. 

*Skipped songs: That's Rich

“Well, hello again.” Carmilla grinned, sidling inside. The girl jerked her head around at the intrusion.  
“This is a private box!” She hissed.  
“You want I should lock the door?” Carmilla smirked.  
“No.”  
“Twice in one day, I think that’s fate.” Carmilla grinned.  
“Go away, I’m working.” She glared at Carmilla, holding up a pencil and pad of paper.  
“Oh, a working girl, doing what?”  
“Reviewing the show for The New York Sun.”  
“Hey, it just so happens I work for The Journal.” Carmilla grinned. She had an in.  
“Oh!” The girl gasped like she’d just realized something crucial. “Somewhere out there someone cares. Go tell them.” She urged, like she was speaking to a small child or animal.    
“The view’s better here.” Carmilla shrugged, leaning on the banister to the box, not about to be dissuaded.  
“Oh, please, go.” She groaned. “I am not in the habit of speaking to strangers.”  
“You make a lousy reporter, then.” Carmilla chuckled. “The name’s Carmilla Karnstein.” She held out a hand to shake.  
“Is that what it says on your rap sheet?” The young woman asked with a smirk.  
“Oh, a smart girl, huh? I admire smart girls.” Carmilla moved her hand to the banister, slowly moving into the young woman’s personal space. “Beautiful, smart, independent…-”  
“Do you mind?!” She objected, Carmilla quickly straightening. The men below shushed them.   
“You got in for free, at least pay attention!” Medda chastised.  
“Sorry Medda.” Carmilla grinned at the woman with a wave, earning her both a glare and a smirk. She pulled the one pape they hadn’t sold that day out of her back trouser pocket. It was smeared with sweat from her run from Snyder, but it would work. She grabbed a spare pencil from the woman’s press bag, sketching the journalist in ¾ profile as she watched the burlesque show.

“ _I’ve got no use for moonlight, or sappy poetry.”_ She crooned under her breath. _“Love at first sight’s for suckers, at least it used to be. The girls are nice, once or twice, then I find someone new. But I never planned on someone like you.”  
_“What are you doing?” She young woman asked, trying to look at Carmilla’s pape.  
“Hey, quiet down, there’s a show going on.” Carmilla pulled the pape away from her prying eyes. “You are the most impossible girl-” She was cut off by Carmilla shushing her, but refused to be cowed. “Ever.” She whispered fiercely before resuming her review. Carmilla added a few more details and some shading before leaving the pape and pencil on her seat, slipping out unnoticed and collecting the redheads.  
(Once the song ended, the girl turned to find herself alone in the box, her earlier companion having left a copy of The Journal with an amazingly realistic portrait of her drawn over the columns of text.)

The next morning the Newsies went to buy their papes and got an ugly surprise. 100 papes were now 60 cents when yesterday they’d been 50. 60 cents yesterday would have got them 120 papes, that was 20 papes they were being stiffed. They turned to go work for another paper, maybe The Trib or The Sun or even The World, that’d sure show Hearst, but found that all the other newspapers had jacked the price, too. So they decided to strike, like the trolley workers whose story they’d been hawking for 3 weeks. They’d make a union and strike. They may be just kids, just newsies, but they were employees, necessary employees, and they were going to demand to be treated as such. A day or two with 0 pape circulation and Hearst would put the price back to get them back, surely.

*Skipped songs: The World Will Know

After Carmilla, Danny, and Perry got tossed out of the offices of The Journal, they gathered at a nearby corner to hash it out, Carmilla divvying up the neighborhoods and Newsies to get the word out about the strike like Danny suggested.  
“Alright, LaF, Betty, you take the Bowery. SJ, Natalie, Flushing.”  
“I’ve got the Bronx.” Kirsch volunteered. The others hollered out neighborhoods and Carmilla checked them off in her head until only one was left.  
“Alright, what about Brooklyn, who wants Brooklyn?” They all looked away. “C’mon, Brooklyn, Melanippe’s territory.” No-one moved. “Kirsch, you telling me you're scared of Brooklyn?” She baited.  
“I ain't scared of Brooklyn.” Kirsch shot back. “Mel, she… makes me… a little nervous.”  
“Alright, Danny and I’ll take Brooklyn.” Carmilla scowled.

“Why is everyone so scared of Brooklyn?” The reporter girl asked as she entered.  
“What are you doing here?” Carmilla asked.  
“Asking a question. Have you got an answer?” She had brass, Carmilla’d give her that.  
“Brooklyn is the 6th largest city in the entire world. If you got Brooklyn, you got the motherload. Say, for someone who works for The New York Sun, you’re spending an awful lot of time hanging around The Journal. So what’s that about, huh? Are you following me?” She smirked.  
“Hehehe, no.” The young woman fake-laughed. “The only thing I’m following is a story. A ragtag gang of ragamuffins wants to take on the kingmakers of New York. Do you think you have a chance?”  
“Hey, shouldn’t you be at the ballet?” Carmilla scowled.   
“Aw, is the question too difficult? I’ll rephrase: Will the richest and most powerful men in New York give the time of day to a gang of kids who haven’t got a nickel to their name?” The woman smiled at Carmilla.  
“Hey, you don’t gotta be insulting!” LaFontaine objected. “I got a nickel.”  
“So I guess you’d say you’re a couple of Davids looking to take on Goliath?” The woman asked innocently.  
“We never said that.” Danny frowned.  
“Well you didn’t have to.” She grinned, sing-songing, “I did.”  
“You know,” Carmilla interjected, “I read a lot of papes in my day, and I never noted no girl reporters writing hard news.”  
“Says the girl leading a band of newsies on strike? Wake up to the new century, the game’s changing. How about an interview?” She pulled her pencil and paper out.  
“Ain’t your beat Entertainment?”  
“This is entertaining. So far.”  
“What’s the last news story you wrote?” Carmilla challenged.  
“What’s the last strike you organised?” She shot back. Sarah-Jane snickered.    
“You’re out of your league, Karnstein.” Kirsch stepped forward, smiling confidently. “Methinks the lady needs to be handled by a real man.” The lady in question raised her eyebrows and took a second to look Kirsch up and down.  
“You thinks wrong, boy-o.” She shooed him away, the other Newsies chuckling.

“I say we save any exclusive for a real reporter.” Danny was speaking to Carmilla, but didn’t bother to lower her voice.  
“What, do you see somebody else giving you the time of day?” The woman replied, showing her exasperation. “Alright, alright, alright. So, I’m just busting out of the Social page, _but_ you give me the exclusive, let me run with the story, and I promise, I’ll get you the space.”  
“You really think we could be in the papes?” Carmilla asked, skeptical.  
“Shut down a paper like The Journal? You’re gonna make the front page.” She grinned.  
“Alright, you want a story? Be in front of the circulation gates tomorrow morning and you’ll get one.” Carmilla assured, the girl nodded and began walking away. “Oh, and bring a camera!” Carmilla called after her.

 That evening, the reporter girl found the Newsies again, waiting around to talk to Carmilla privately. It was flattering, to say the least.  
“So what’s your story?” She asked, watching Danny and Perry leave for home. “Are you selling newspapers to work your way through art school?”  
“Art school, you’re kidding me, right?” Carmilla laughed.  
“No, you’re an artist!” She insisted, pulling the pape Carmilla'd drawn on out of her bag. “You’ve got real talent. You should be inside the paper, illustrating, not outside hawking it.”  
“Maybe that ain’t what I want.” Carmilla countered, stepping close to the young woman.  
“So tell me what you want.” She murmured. Carmilla leaned in.  
“Can’t you see it in my eyes?” She breathed.  
“Yeeaaaaah okay.” She turned and took a step away. Dammit. “Have you always been their leader?”  
“Hey, I’m a blowhard, Danny’s the brains.” Carmilla shrugged. The only idea she’d had was the strike, and she’d gotten that from the trolley workers. Danny was the one with the good ideas, green though she was.  
“Oh, modesty is not a quality I would have pinned on you.” The girl noted, no malice in her tone.  
“You got a name?” Carmilla changed the topic.  
“Laura… Hollis. Er…” She looked… something. Confused, frustrated, something.  
“What’s the matter, ain’t you sure of your own name?” Carmilla’s smile was evident in her voice as she moved a little closer.  
“It’s my byline. The name I publish under.”  
“I know what a byline is. I don’t just hawk the papers, sometimes I even read ‘em.”

“So tell me about tomorrow. What are you hoping for?” Laura tried to get back to business.  
“Well, y’know, I’d rather tell you what I’m hoping for tonight.” Carmilla looked her up and down with a large grin.  
“Miss Karnstein!” She objected, scandalized. Carmilla chuckled and stepped back.  
“Today, we stopped the newsies from carrying out the papes, but! The wagons still deliver to the rest of the city. Tomorrow we stop the wagons.” She sighed.  
“Are you scared?” Laura seemed concerned.  
“Do I look scared?” She smiled. “But ask me again in the morning.”  
“Good answer! Goodnight, Miss Karnstein.” She started walking away.  
“Hey, where you running?” Carmilla followed a few steps. “It isn’t even suppertime!”  
“I’ll see you in the morning.” She continued backing away, but slowed. “And. Off the record. Good luck.”  
“Hey! Hey, Hollis!” Carmilla ran toward her just as she was about to round a corner. She stopped and Carmilla did, too. “Write it good! We both got a lot riding on you.”

Laura sat down at her typewriter with a sigh.  
“You heard her.” She said to herself. “Write it good.” She imitated the taller young woman’s speech. “Write it good or it’s back to wheezing your way through the flower show. No pressure. Let’s go.  
**Newsies VS The Journal. With all eyes fixed on the trolley strike, there’s another battle brewing in the city.** And I just thought I could write about it.” She sighed, sitting back in her chair. “Oh, come on, Laura! Those kids are counting on you!” She ran her hands through her hair in frustration and stress. “Oh, you poor children.

_‘Write what you know’ so they say, all I know is I don’t know what to write or the right way to write it. This is big, lady! Don’t screw it up! This is not some little vaudeville I’m reviewing. Poor little kids versus rich greedy sourpusses, hah, it’s a cinch! It could practically write itself! And let’s pray it does, ‘cause as I may have mentioned, I have no clue what I’m doing._

_Am I insane? This is what I’ve been waiting for, well, that plus the screaming of 10 angry editors: ‘A girl?’ ‘It’s a girl!’ ‘How the hell-?’ ‘Is that even legal?’ ‘Look, just go and get her!’”_ She imitated what the men would say when she made her big break.

 _“Not only that, there’s a story behind the story, thousands of children, exploited, invisible. Speak up, take a stand, and there’s someone to write about it, that’s how things get better. Give life’s little guy some ink, and when it dries just watch what happens. Those kids will live and breathe right on the page and once they’re center stage, you watch what happens. And who’s there with her camera and her pen as boys turn into men? They’ll storm the gates, and then just watch what happens when they do!_ ” She squealed in excitement as the words flowed from her fingertips, the typewriter clacking away. " **A modern day David is poised to take on the rich and powerful Goliath. With the swagger of one twice her age, armed with nothing more than a few nuggets of truth, Carmilla Karnstein stands ready to face the behemoth, Hearst.** Now that is how you turn a girl into a legend.

 _Picture a charming, heroically charismatic, plainspoken, know-nothing, skirt-chasing, teasing little-_ ” She took a deep breath to steady herself, she couldn’t get too emotional, too involved. “ _Lie down with dogs and you wake up with a raise and a promotion. So, she’s a flirt, a complete egomaniac; the fact is she’s also the face of the strike. -What a face.- Face the facts, that’s a face that could save us all from sinking in the ocean.”_ Now was not the time to get a crush. Carmilla had a strike to lead and Laura had to bring people's attention to it.

 _“Like someone said ‘Power tends to corrupt’ and absolute power- wait, wait, corrupts! Absolutely, that is genius! But give me some time, I’ll be twice as good as that 6 months from never.”_ She’d jumped out of her chair in excitement, but sank down again as her nerves returned and her confidence plummeted. She set her fingers on the keys again. _“Just look around at the world we’re inheriting, and think of the one we’ll create.”_ She mused to herself, her imagination picking up pace again. _“Their mistake is they got old, that is not a mistake we’ll be making, no sir, we’ll stay young forever! Give those kids and me the brand new century and watch what happens. It’s David and Goliath, do or die, the fight is on and I can’t watch what happens. But all I know is nothing happens if you just give in. It can’t be any worse than how it’s been. And it just so happens that we just may win! So whatever happens: let’s begin!_ ” She typed feverishly as the words came to her. 

*Skipped songs: Seize the Day

The next morning, the Newsies gathered at the circulation gate.  
“Courage cannot erase our fear.” Danny counseled. “Courage is when we face our fear. Tell those with power safe in their tower, we will not obey. So let us seize the day.” She told them that even if a newsie couldn’t join the strike, they’d fight for them, not soak them. But they’d try to convince every newsie to join. If enough newsies joined, every pape and every borough, Hearst and all the other newspaper giants had to listen. The bell rang and all the regulars passed through the line without buying any papes, wasting the time of Mr. Weisel, called Weasel, who sold the papes, and his nephews the Delancey brothers, who helped count, started fights, and were paid extra to be newsies. Then some new kids arrived from the back with stacks of papes in their hands. The new and old newsies stared each other down for a few seconds.   
“Stand with us.” Carmilla stated. “I know Hearst is probably paying you a pretty penny to scab today, but think about the rest of us.” She pulled Natalie over, the shortest of them, not afraid to use guilt against newsies as well as she wielded it against newspaper buyers. “Hearst thinks we’re gutter rats with no respect for nothing, including each other. Well, we stab each other in the back and yeah, that’s who we are. But if we stand together, we change the whole game. It ain’t just about us. All across this city, there are boys and girls who should be out playing, or goin’ to school but instead they are slaving to support themselves and their folks. Ain’t no problem in being poor, and not a one of us complains if the work we do is hard. All we ask is a square deal.” One of the scabs threw down their papes and joined the cheering newsies. “Come on.” Carmilla turned her gaze to the other two. “For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in this town, I beg you. Throw down your papers and join the strike.” The second scab threw their papes down. All eyes turned to the last kid. Some of the newsies cracked their knuckles.  
“At the end of the day, who’re you gonna trust?” One of the would-be scabs asked.  
“Oh, what the hell. My father’s gonna kill me anyway!” They all cheered and clapped the kids on the back, but their chants of ‘Strike’ quickly died down as the Delancey brothers pulled Perry away from the group. The newsies surrounded them and began to fight the Delanceys to cries of ‘Soak ‘em!’. They rescued Perry and the Delanceys ran off, all the newsies posing for a group picture for Laura Hollis.  

The newsies all congratulated each other until they heard the whistles. They looked to see the Delancey brothers returning with weapons, and behind them the police.  
“Hey, it’s the Bulls! Cheese it!” Carmilla called in warning, but there was no time to escape. They were surrounded. They fought to the best of their ability. They fought dirty, scrappy, swinging off the wagons, throwing barrels, and stacks of tied newspapers. The photographer kept taking pictures. The Delanceys had gone after Perry again, LaFontaine saving her, but getting caught in the process. They cried out for help, for Carmilla, but so was everyone else. They tried to keep fighting two against one, weapons against unarmed. Snyder waited until they couldn’t fight back anymore to put the handcuffs on and drag them away, still calling for Carmilla.   
“LaF!” Carmilla finally got free of the cops she was fighting and ran to help, but Snyder turned to her. She froze.  
“Karnstein!” He cried. “Get her!” He commanded the cops. Carmilla turned and fled.

 *Cut songs: Santa Fe

Carmilla clambered up to her fire escape, what LaF had called her ‘Penthouse’ since it was so high up. She let the tears run down her face as she stared out at the skyline.  
“ _Folks, we finally got a headline, “Newsies Crushed as Bulls Attack”, LaF is calling me, that kid’s just too damn slow. Kids are fightin’, bleedin’, fallin’, and it’s all Carmilla’s fault, well Carm just wants to close her eyes and GO!”_ She screamed, breathing hard, staring out at the city.

 _“Let me go.”_ Her voice wavered with emotion. _“Far away. Somewhere they won’t never find me, and tomorrow won't remind me of today. When the city's finally sleeping, and the moon looks old and gray, I get on the train that's bound for Santa Fe.”_ She'd told LaFontaine of her dreams to go to Santa Fe, told them they could join her, that no one gives a damn if you're a boy or a girl or whatever in Santa Fe. “ _And I'm gone! And I'm done! No more runnin’, no more lyin’. No more fat old men denying me my pay. Just a moon so big and yella’ it turns night right into day. Dreams come true, yeah they do, in Santa Fe._

_..._

_Just be real is all I'm asking, not some paintin’ in my head, ‘cause I'm dead if I can't count on you today. I got nothing if I ain't got Santa Fe!_ ”  
Today proved it, she was no good for anybody here. She'd be better off in Santa Fe, and her friends would be better off without her to get them in trouble.  

*Skipped songs: Letter From the Refuge

Carmilla got a letter from LaF and went to the Refuge that night, snuck around back, peered in windows to find them. She suspected they'd be in the girls section. Old folks didn't bother to understand kids.  
“Psst, LaF!” She whispered, pressing her face to the bars at the window. They looked up from their bed with a start, their face splitting into a grin. They were covered in bruises already.  
“Carm!” They cried. The girls shushed them. “If you want me to be quiet, somebody's gotta help me to the window.” They stated loudly, frowning. One of the girls helped them up and to the window. “Carm, hey, we got 'em good, right?”  
“Yeah, LaF, we did.” Carmilla smiled at her friend.  
“I was thinking maybe I could sneak out of here like you did, y'know, Teddy Roosevelt and the carriage?”  
“Yeah, listen, LaF, how are you?” Carmilla interrupted.  
“Honestly? Not so good. Snyder really soaked me one.”  
“I'm really sorry.” Carmilla reached through the bars to pat her friend's shoulder. Everyone turned towards the sound of a key in a lock. “See ya!” Carmilla started swinging down the fire escapes, hoping LaF would be alright.

 The rest of the Newsies had managed to escape the cops, and the next morning were slumped on the chairs, tables, and even floor of their favorite restaurant. The owner passed around free glasses of water.  
“Drink up, and don't say I don't give you nothing. And before you say water is nothing, just ask a fish. In the desert.” The newsies stared after him as he left.   
“Why do old people talk?” Sarah-Jane groaned.  
“To prove they’s still alive.” Natalie replied.  
“Good morning! Would you get a load of these glum mugs.” Laura observed as she entered. “Can these really be the same newsies who made front page of The New York Sun?” She held up the paper and the Newsies all shot up, clamoring to see themselves.  
“You got us in the pape?” Danny asked, incredulous.  
“You got yourselves in the pape.” Laura replied with a smile. They watched the others still pointing themselves out in the picture for a few seconds.

“So, what else you got?” Danny asked, hoping the young journalist had more news.  
“Well, mine’s the only story that ran. Pulitzer declared a blackout on strike news, so even I’m shut down now.” She sighed. “Hey, I heard they arrested LaFontaine! Did they get Carmilla, too?” She asked, worried.   
“The Delancey’s are spreading a story that she took it on the lam first sight of the cops.” Sarah-Jane piped up.  
“That's not what happened at all.” Perry objected.  
“I know, Curly, I was there, I’m just reporting the news.” Sarah-Jane replied.

*Skipped songs: King of New York

Carmilla wound up at the burlesque house. She found the new backdrop Medda wanted painted, and the paint, and set to work. Anything to clear her mind. Medda found her and started talking to her about her plan to go to Santa Fe.  
“Just tell me you’re going somewhere, not running away.”  
“Does it matter?” Carmilla sighed.  
“When you go somewhere and it turns out not to be the right place, you can always go somewhere else. But if you’re running away, nowhere is ever the right place.” Medda counseled.  
“Hey!” Danny called as she entered. “How about letting a pal know you’re alive?”  
“Why don’t I leave you with your friend.” Medda murmured as she slipped off.  
“Where did you go?” Danny demanded. “We couldn’t find you!”  
“You ever think I didn’t want to be found?” Carmilla shot back, still holding palette and paintbrush. Danny noticed the backdrop.  
“Hey, is that a real place? Is that Santa Fe? Hey, did you see the papes? We are front page news! Above the fold! Oh yes, above the fold.” She pulled a pape out to show Carmilla, who turned back to the backdrop.  
“Good for you.” She monotoned.  
“Everyone wants to meet the famous Carmilla Karnstein. Even Melanippe sent over a kid just to say next event, you can count on Brooklyn, how ‘bout that?” Danny refused to let Carmilla’s bad mood sour her good one, bruised though they all were.

“We got stomped into the ground.” Carmilla pointed out, frustrated.  
“Yeah they got us this time. I’ll grant you that, but we took round one, and with press like this, our fight is far from over.”  
“Every newsie who could walk was out there this morning selling papes like the strike never happened.” Carmilla stated.  
“And I was right out there with them. If I don’t sell papes my folks don’t eat.”  
“Save your breath, I get it, it’s hopeless!” Carmilla put the painting stuff down, wiping her hands on a rag and throwing it to the floor angrily.  
“But then-" Danny continued, I saw this look on Weasel’s face, he was actually nervous. And I realized this isn’t over! We got ‘em worried, really worried. And I walked away. Lots of other kids did too. And that is what you call a beginning.” Danny grinned.  

“There she is! Just like I said!” Perry lead Laura into the theater.  
**“** Cryin’ out loud. Where does a girl gotta go to get away from you people?” Carmilla asked in frustration. This was the last thing she needed right now, more people to argue with, one of whom sent her stomach twisting and her palms sweaty.  
**“** There’s no escaping us pal, we’re inevitable.” Danny replied nonchalantly.  
“Word is you wrote a great story.” Carmilla stepped closer to Laura.  
“You look like hell.” She reached up to brush Carmilla's bangs away from her shiner.  
“Hey Carmilla. Where’s that supposed to be?” Perry was looking at the backdrop she was painting.  
**“** It’s Santa Fe.” Danny stated.  
“Oh, I gotta tell you, Carm. This ‘Go West Young Man’ routine is getting tired. Even Horace Greely moved back to New York.” Laura tried to convince her.  
“Yes he did. And then he died.” Perry stated.  
“Ain’t reporters s’posed to be uh, non-partisan?” Carmilla ignored the gingers.  
“Ask a reporter.” Laura sighed. Hearst’s had me blacklisted from every newsdesk in town.”  
“Enough of your crushes, will Medda let us have the theatre?” Perry interrupted.  
**“** It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” Danny explained. “We want to hold a rally. A citywide meeting where every newsie gets a say and a vote and we do it after working hours so no-one loses a day’s pay. Smart, huh?” She smiled.  
“Yeah, smart enough to get you committed to a padded room.” Carmilla replied.   
“What, the girl who paints places she’s never seen is calling us crazy?” Laura asked. 

“You want to see a place I’ve seen? Huh? How ‘bout this?” Carmilla angrily turned the backdrop around, to a political cartoon she'd painted on the back showing a bunch of kids being squashed by a giant shoe labeled 'Hearst’. “Newsies Square.” She declared. “Thanks to my big mouth. Filled to overflowing with failure. Kids hurt, others arrested.”  
“Lighten up, no-one died.” Danny shot back. Carmilla stared at her.  
“Oh, is that what you’re aiming for, Lawrence? Go on, go on, call me a coward, call me a quitter, ain’t no way I am putting them kids back in danger.”  
**“** We’re doing something that’s never been done before! How could that not be dangerous?” Danny replied.  
“I went to see LaF, at the Refuge.” Carmilla stated.  
“Are they okay?” Perry asked.  
“I slipped around back and climbed the fire escape.” Carmilla continued. “They busted them up so bad, they couldn’t even come to the window! Now what if they don’t make it, huh? Are you willing to shoulder that? For what, half a penny a pape?!” Carmilla was near shouting.  
“It’s not about papes!” Danny shouted, startling Carmilla. “Look, you said it yourself before, my family wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in if my father had a union. This is a fight we have to win.”  
“If I wanted a sermon I’d show up for church.” Carmilla spat.    
“Tell me how quitting does LaF any good.” Danny asked. Carmilla opened her mouth, but couldn't find anything to say. “Exactly!" Danny continued. _"So here’s how it goes: once we win, and we will be winning, make no mistake-”  
__"We’ll be what?”_ Carmilla interrupted.  
_“We're already winning.”_ Danny continued.  
_“Right.”_ Carmilla responded sarcastically.  
_“And we tell 'em straight out, they let LaF go or they keep getting pounded.”_ She punched her open palm.  
_“Dan, what the hell, did they bust up your brains or something? As I recall, Dan, we all got our asses kicked, they won!”_ Carmilla pointed at her shiner.  
_“Won the battle.”_ Danny countered.  
_“Oh, come on!”  
__“Come on, think about it, we've got them surrounded.”  
__“Here's what I think: Hearst’s a jerk, he's a rattlesnake.”  
__“You're right, and you know why a snake starts to rattle?”  
__“No. Why?”  
__“'Cause he's scared!”  
__“Yeah, right!”  
__“Go and look it up, the poor guy's head is spinning.”_ Danny put a hand on Carmilla's shoulder, trying to convince her. _“Why would he send for the goons, an entire army? Dozens of goons, plus the cops-”  
__“You know, you may be right.”  
__“Thank you, God!”  
__“If he wasn't afraid-”  
__“Exactly!”_ Danny grinned and they spoke in sync.   
_“He knows we're winning!”_ Laura and Perry joined in on the excitement.   
_“Get those kids to see we're circling victory, and watch what happens. We're doing something no one's even tried, and yes we're terrified, but watch what happens.”  
__“You can't undo the past.”_ Carmilla took a step away from the group with a frown.  
_“So just move on.”_ Danny stepped out to her, smiling. Laura joined Danny.  
_“And stay on track.”_ They said in sync, Perry echoing them.  
_“'Cause Humpty Dumpty is about to crack.”_ They all grinned in anticipation.  
_“We've got faith.”_ Laura started.  
_“We've got a plan.”_ Danny added.  
_"And we'll attack!”_ Perry finished.  
_“So just watch what happens. We're back!”_ They all cried in unison.

 Laura was called to Hearst’s study, watching the discussion between him, his assistant, and the Mayor discuss the upcoming newsie rally.   
“I’ve read your editorials, Mr. Hearst, how could you express so much sympathy for the trolley workers, and yet have none for the newsies?” The Mayor asked.    
“Because the trolley workers are striking for a fair contract, the newsies are striking against me.”  
“I’d spare you this embarrassment if I could, but the burlesque house is private property.” The Mayor shrugged.    
“He can’t order a raid without legal cause.” Hearst’s assistant summed up.  
“Mr. Mayor, would the fact that this rally is organized by an escaped convict be cause enough to shut it down?” Hearst asked.  
“Escaped convict?” The man frowned in concern.  
**“** A fugitive from one of your own institutions. A convicted thief at large wreaking mischief on our law-abiding community. Mr. Snyder, which one is it?” Hearst threw the issue of The Sun on the desk, the chair turned around to reveal Snyder. Laura had only heard of him from the newsies, and saw him briefly at the fight, but didn’t want to get any further acquainted.   
“That is her, there.” Snyder pointed at the picture accompanying Laura's article. “Carmilla Karnstein.”   
“And how do you know her?” Hearst prompted.  
“Hers is not a pleasant story. She was first sentenced to my Refuge for loitering and vagrancy. But her total disregard for authority has made her a frequent visitor.” Laura wondered how many times Carmilla had been arrested. She wasn’t that old.  
“You called her a thief and escaped convict.” Hearst’s assistant stated.  
“After her release I caught her myself, red-handed, trafficking stolen food and clothing. She was last sentenced to 6 months, but the willful ruffian escaped.”  
“So you’d be doing the city a service, removing this criminal from our streets.” Hearst smiled at the Mayor.  
“If that’s the case, we can take her in, quietly.” He responded. They all jumped as Hearst slammed his hands down on the desk.  
“What good would quiet do me?!” He boomed. “I want a public example made of her.” Just then the receptionist entered the room.  
“Mr. Hearst, the girl, Carmilla Karnstein is here.” She announced nervously. Laura stood.  
“Here?” Hearst asked, interested.  
“Just outside, she’s asked to see you.” The woman stated. Hearst chuckled.    
“Ask and ye shall be received. Mr. Snyder, if you please.” He gestured toward the man, who turned his chair round again. Hearst turned to Laura. “Sit.” He commanded. She sat and he turned her chair to face the wall.  
“Miss Carmilla Karnstein.” The receptionist announced. 

“Good afternoon, boys.” Carmilla strolled in to find William Randolph Hearst, the Mayor, and another man she didn’t recognize.  
“And which Carmilla Karnstein is this, the charismatic union organizer or the petty thief and escaped convict?” Hearst asked with a calm smile.  
“Which one gives us more in common?” Carmilla grinned.  
“Impudence is in bad taste when crawling for mercy.” Hearst stated.  
“Crawling? That’s a laugh. No, no, I just stopped by with an invite. Now, it seems a few hundred of your employees are rallying to discuss some uh, recent disagreements. Now I thought it only fair to invite you to state your case direct to us. So what do you say, Bill? You want I should save you a spot on the bill?” She continued to grin at him.  
“You are as shameless and disrespectful a creature as I was told. Now, do you know what I was doing when I was your age, girl? I was fighting in a war.”  
“Oh yeah, and how’d that turn out for ya?”  
“It taught me a lesson that shaped my life. You don’t win a war on the battlefield, it’s the headline that crowns the victor.” Hearst stated proudly.  
“Well, I will keep that in mind when New York wakes up to front page photos of our rally.”    
“Rally ‘til the cows come home.” Hearst encouraged. “Not a paper in town will publish a word, and if it’s not in the papers it never happened.” He smiled as Carmilla’s grin fell.  
“You may run this city, but there are some of us who cannot be bullied, even some reporters.” She pointed at the man.    
“Ah, such as that young woman who made you yesterday's news. Talented girl, and beautiful as well, don’t you think?” Hearst was still calm, resting his hand on the back of a chair.  
“Yeah, I’ll uh, tell her you said so.” It was kind of gross, an old man like Hearst thinking about Laura like that. She would not be telling Laura about it.  
**“** Oh no need, she can hear for herself.” He spun the chair to reveal Laura. “Can’t you, Darling? I trust you know my daughter, Laura,” He paused while Carmilla and Laura stared at each other. “Yeeeeesss.” He sing-songed. “My daughter. You’re probably asking ‘Why the nom-de-plume? Why doesn’t my daughter work for me?’ Good questions. I offered Laura a life of, well, of leisure, instead she chose to pursue a career. And she was showing real promise until-” He slammed his hands on the desk again, making everyone jump. “This. Recent. Lapse. But you’re done with all of that now, aren’t you, Sweetheart?” He smiled at Laura.   
“Carmilla, I didn’t mean-” Laura started to apologize, but was interrupted by her father.    
“Oh, don’t trouble the girl with your problems, Dearest. Miss Karnstein has a plateful of her own. Wouldn’t you say so, Mr. Snyder?” The chair behind the desk turned around to reveal a smiling Snyder.  
“Hello, Carmilla.” He greeted menacingly. Carmilla spun and ran, but the Delancey brothers caught her just outside the office door and dragged her back in.  
“Does anyone else feel a noose tightening, hmm?” Hearst mused. “But allow me to offer an alternate scenario.” He gestured to Carmilla. “You attend this rally and you speak against this hopeless strike. And I’ll see your criminal record expunged. And your pockets filled with enough cash to carry you in a first-class train compartment from New York to New Mexico and beyond. You did say he wanted to travel West, didn’t you?” He smiled at Laura, who shot a pleading look to Carmilla.  
“There ain’t a person in this room that don’t know you stink.” Carmilla spat.    
“And if they know me, they know I don’t care. Mark my words, girl. Defy me and I’ll have you and every one of your friends locked up in the Refuge. Now I know- I know that you are tough and scrappy and proud! But it’s not right to condemn that little cross-dressing boy-girl to conditions like that. And what about your new pals, uh-”  
“Danielle.” Snyder supplied.  
“Danny, and her friend Perry? Ripped from their loving families and tossed to the rats. Will they ever be able to thank you enough?”

*Skipped songs: The Bottom Line (Reprise)

The Delanceys shoved Carmilla down to the cellar of The Journal.  
“You know, we been given discretion to handle you as we see fit. So behave.” One threatened.  
“Yeah, but just in case,” his brother continued, “I’ve been polishing my favorite brass knuckles special.”  
“You can sleep right here. On this old printing press, huh?” He pulled the sheet off the press, slamming his hand on the wooden bench a few times. “Now that there is firm.” He chuckled. Carmilla watched them go back up the stairs, heard the lock click. She grabbed the dusty old sheet and balled it up to use as a pillow as she curled up on the hard wood.

*Skipped songs: Brooklyn’s Here

“Welcome newsies of NYC. Welcome to my theater and your revolution!” Medda whooped. Newsies from every corner of the city crowded the burlesque house.  
“And let’s hear it for Melanippe and Brookyln!” Danny cheered, gesturing to their box.  
“Let’s see what old man Hearst’s gotta say to ya now!” Mel hollered.  
“Hey, Danny, where’s Carmilla?” Kirsch asked.  
“Car-mill-a!” The newsies in the seats began to chant. “Car-mill-a!” Danny looked to Medda, just offstage.  
“Sorry kid, no sign of her yet. Looks like you’re doing a solo.”  
“I’m- What?” Danny asked. Carmilla was the face of the strike, the mouth. But she had to do this. “Newsies of New York!” She cried, quieting the chant. “Look at what we done. We got newsies from every pape and every neighborhood here tonight. Tonight you’re making history. Tonight we declare that we are just as much a part of the newspaper as any reporter or editor. We are done being treated like kids. From now on they will treat us as equals! Am I right?!” The crowd cheered.   
“You want to be talked to like an adult, start acting like one, don’t just run your mouth, make some sense.” Carmilla stepped out from offstage, wearing new clothes, a dress, but Danny didn’t have time to question it.   
“And here’s Carmilla!” She announced, the crowd cheering and hollering, and starting up their chant again.  
“Alright.” Carmilla said, trying to quiet them. “Alright.” She said louder, holding up a hand for quiet, still they chanted. “Alright!” She hollered. They quieted. “William Randolph Hearst. Raised the price of papes without so much as a word to us, and that was a lousy thing to do. So’s we got mad, and we showed him we ain’t gonna be pushed around. So’s we go on strike. And then what happens, well Hearst lowers the price of papes so’s we’ll go back to work.” The newsies cheered in agreement. “And then a few weeks after that, he hikes up his price again, and don’t think he won’t. So what do we do then?” She challenged. “And what do we do when he decides to raise his price again, after that? Come on, we gotta be realistic, here. If we don’t work, we don’t get paid. How many days can you go without making money? Huh? Believe me, however long, Hearst and all them, they can go longer. But I have spoken with Mr. Hearst, and he-” The newsies started to boo. “He has given me his word, if we disband the union-” Carmilla persevered, shouting over the ruckus. “He will not raise prices again for 2 years, and he will put that in writing! Now, I say, we take the deal, we go back to work, I don’t care how brave you think you are, all you gotta do is vote no! Vote no!” She was barely audible over the din the newsies were making in disagreement. Suddenly they heard police whistles and the bulls burst in, newsies fighting them off at every exit.   
“You’re a traitor, Karnstein!” Someone screamed as she left. 

Carmilla climbed up to her penthouse, a lot more difficult in a skirt than trousers, only to find Laura waiting for her.  
“That was some speech you made.” She observed.  
“How’d you get here?” Carmilla asked, frustrated, not looking at Laura.  
“SJ showed me.” Carmilla glanced toward her and found her drawings spread around on the metal grating floor, held open by rocks on the edges of the paper.  
“What, you think you can go through my stuff?” She asked angrily, scooping the papers up, quickly rolling them and sticking them back into the tube where she stored them.  
“Wh-  I saw them rolled up, sticking out of there, I didn’t know what they were.” Laura defended. Then her voice softened. “These drawings, these are drawings of the Refuge, aren’t they? Is this really what it’s like in there? 3 kids to a bed, rats everywhere, and vermin?”  
“What, a little different from where you were raised?” She shot. Laura didn’t take the bait.  
“Snyder told my father that you were arrested stealing food and clothing. This is why, isn’t it? You stole to feed those children... I- I don’t understand!” She burst. “If you were willing to go to jail for those boys, how could you turn your back on them now!?”  
“I do not think you are one to talk about turning on folks.” Carmilla accused.  
“I never turned on you or anyone else.” Laura stated in a low voice.    
“No, you just- you just double crossed us to your father. Your father-!” Carmilla was so upset she could barely find the words, but Laura didn’t appear to have that problem.  
“My father has eyes on every corner of this city! He doesn’t need me spying for him, and I never lied! … I just didn’t tell you everything.” She hedged.  
“Oh, if you weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you’d be trying to talk with a fist in your mouth instead.” She threatened.    
“Look, I told you that I worked for The Sun, and I did. I told you my professional name is Hollis, and it is. You never asked my real one.” Laura explained.   
“I wouldn’t think I had to unless I knew I was dealing with a backstabber!” Carmilla accused.   
“Oh, and if I was poor like you, you’d be looking at me through another swollen eye!” Laura got right up in her face, holding up a fist.   
“Oh yeah? Don’t let that stop you, huh, give me your best shot!” Carmilla threw her arms out to the sides. Laura grabbed her blouse and pulled her into a kiss. They broke apart a second later, Carmilla stumbling over words, unable to form anything resembling a sentence. Mostly she just gaped at the journalist. 

“I need to know that you didn’t cave for the money.” Laura started. A weird thing to talk about after their first kiss, but Carmilla ran with it.    
“No, I- I spoke the truth, you win a fight when you got the other fella down eating pavement. Alright, you heard your father, no matter how many days we strike, he ain’t never giving up. I don’t- I don’t know what else we can do.”  
“Ah, but I do.” Laura sing-songed with a smile.    
“Oh, c’mon.” Carmilla shrugged her off.    
“Really, Carm, really? Only you can have a good idea? Or is it because my dad’s rich?”  
“Oh, I did not say nothing ab-”  
“This would be a good time to shut up.” Laura interrupted. “Being boss doesn’t mean you have all the answers, just the brains to recognize the right one when you hear it.”  
“I’m listening.” Carmilla said after a second. Laura gasped like she’d just realized something important.    
“Good for you. The strike was your idea, the rally was Danny’s, and now my plan will take us to the finish line.” She pulled a typed paper out of her press bag and presented it to Carmilla. “Deal with it.”  
“The Children’s Crusade.” Carmilla read the title aloud.  
“‘For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in New York, I beg you, join us.’ With those words, the strike stopped being just about the Newsies, you challenged our whole generation to stand up and demand a place at the table.” Laura enthused.    
“A children’s crusade.”    
“Just think, Carm, if we publish this, my words,” her face lit up as she got another idea, “with one of your drawings!” She grabbed the tube of drawings. “And if every worker under 21 read it and stayed home from work. Or better yet, if they came to Newsies Square! A general city-wide strike, even my father couldn’t ignore that.” She grinned at Carmilla proudly.  
“We got one small problem. We got no way to print it.” Carmilla reminded her.  
“Oh come on, there has to be one printing press he doesn’t control.” Laura rolled her eyes. Carmilla thought for a second.    
“Oh, no.” She chuckled.    
“What?”  
“Oh ho ho. I know where there’s a printing press, no-one would ever think we’d use.” Carmilla grinned.    
“Well, then why are we still standing here?” Laura started climbing down from the penthouse.  

“Hey, wait, stop, j-.” Carmilla pulled her back up. “Wh- what is this about for you? I’m not- I’m not talking about the Children’s Crusade, what’s this about?” She gestured between the two of them. “What, am I- am I kidding myself or, is there something?”  
“Of course there is.” Laura smiled calmly, serenely.    
“Well don’t just say it like it happens every day!” Carmilla burst.    
“Carm, I didn’t-” Laura’s face turned to worry.    
“No, no, I’m not an idiot! Look, I know girls like you don’t wind up with girls like me. And I don’t want you promising nothing you just gotta take back later... Standing here, tonight looking at you, I- Look I’m scared tomorrow’s gonna come and change everything. If there was a way I- I could grab hold of something and make time stop so’s I could keep on looking at you.” She stroked Laura’s face.    
“You snuck up on me, Carmilla Karnstein.” Laura leaned into the touch. “I never even saw it coming.”  
“Fer sure?” Carmilla breathed.    
“Fer sure.” Laura imitated. _“Till the moment I found you, I thought I knew what love was. Now I’m learning what is true, that love’ll do what it does. The world finds ways to sting you. And then, one day, decides to bring you something to believe in, for even a night. One night, maybe forever, but that’s alright. That’s alright. And if you’re gone tomorrow, what was ours still will be. I have something to believe in, now that I know you believed in me.”  
__“We was never meant to meet, and then we meet, who knows why? One more stranger on the street, just someone sweet passin’ by.”_ Carmilla grinned. _“An angel come to save me, who didn’t even know she gave me something to believe in, for even a day. One day, maybe forever, but that’s okay. That’s okay. And if you’re gone tomorrow, what was ours still will be. I have something to believe in, now that I know you believed in me.”_ They clasped hands, staring into each other’s eyes and speaking in unison. _“Do you know what I believe in? Look into my eyes and see.”  
_“If-if things were different...” Carmilla looked down.   
“If you weren’t going to Santa Fe.” Laura responded wistfully.  
“Yeah, if you weren’t an heiress.” Laura scoffed at that. “And if your father wasn’t after my head.”  
“You’re not really scared of my father.” Laura grinned.  
“No.” Carmilla agreed. “But I am pretty scared of you.”  
“Don’t be!” Laura laughed.  
_“And if I’m gone tomorrow-”_ Carmilla continued.  
_“What was ours still will be.”_ Laura assured. They spoke in unison again.  
_“I have something to believe in, now that I know you believed in me.”  
__“I have something to believe in.”_ Carmilla grinned.  
_“Now that I know you believed in me.”_ Laura joined her and they kissed again.

 Laura lead the way to the cellar of The Journal, large ring of keys jangling in her hand. She passed it to Carmilla (who was in trousers again).  
“I’ll get the lights, you get those windows unlocked.”  
“You got enough keys here for the entire building. Hey, has someone been picking Daddy’s pockets?” Carmilla teased.  
“The janitor’s been working here since he was 8 and hasn’t had a raise in 20 years, he’s with us 100%.” Laura explained, smiling. Carmilla whistled to Danny.  
“Hey, you bring enough newsies to keep us covered?”  
“We could hold a hoedown in here and no-one would be the wiser.” She assured.  
“Alright, good job.”  
“Hey, uh.” Danny stopped her as she was about to walk away. “It’s good to have you back again.”  
“Shut up.” Carmilla grinned.

“There she is.” Laura grinned at the old printing press, a young man Carmilla hadn’t met yet by her side. “And just think, while my father snores blissfully in his bed, we will be using his very own press to bring him down.”  
“Yeah, remind me to stay on your good side.” Carmilla quipped.  
“Hey, is this what they print the papes on?” Kirsch asked.    
“I can see why they tossed this old girl down to the cellar, but I think she’ll do the job.” The young man commented.    
“Carmilla, this is JP. He knows just about everything there is to know about printing.” Laura introduced. Carmilla spat in her palm and held it out to shake.  
“Um, I’m sorry.” JP looked nervous. Carmilla realized that this kid wasn’t a newsie and she was probably grossing him out, like old folks got when newsies shook hands, like how Danny used to be. She wiped her hand on her shirt.   
“Um, you work for one of the papes.” She held out her dried hand and they shook.  
“My father owns The Trib.” JP said matter-of-factly.   
“Whoa. Whoa.” Carmilla pointed at JP, raising a questioning eyebrow at Laura, who grinned and introduced another young man.  
“And this is Joey, he’ll be typesetting the article for us.”  
“Joey, J-Joey, so I-I suppose you’re the son of Joseph Pulitzer.” Carmilla chuckled.    
“And proud to be a part of your revolution!” Joey shook her hand excitedly.    
“That’s, um.” Carmilla looked to Laura again.    
“Are you going to stare at me some more, or can we get back to business?” Laura grinned.  
“A little grease, and she’ll be good as gold.” JP assured them.    
“Alright, here’s how it’ll work: as we print the papes, Kirsch, you’ll let the newsies in and they’ll spread ‘em to every working kid in New York.” Danny instructed.    
“After that?” Kirsch asked.    
“Well, after that it’s up to them.” Carmilla sighed.

 _“There’s change coming once and for all. You makes the front page and man, you is major news.”_ She mused as the others started up the press behind her. Danny joined her. _“Tomorrow they’ll see what we are, and sure as a star, we ain’t come this far to lose.”  
_“Here they come!” Kirsch called. They got started tying stacks of newspapers and passing them to the newsies.   
_“This is the story we needed to write that's been kept out of sight, but no more.”_ Everyone grinned at each other in anticipation. _“In a few hours, by dawn’s early light, we’ll be ready to fight us a war. This time we’re in it to stay. Talk about seizing the day.”  
__“Write it in ink or in blood, it’s the same either way.”_ Carmilla commanded. _“They’re gonna damn well pay.”_ Everyone nodded.  
_“See old man Hearst, he is snug in his bed, he don’t care if we’re dead or alive. 3 satin pillows are under his head while we’s begging for bread to survive. Bill, you can stop counting sheep. We’re gonna sing you to sleep. You’ve got your thugs with their sticks and their slugs, yeah, but we got a promise to keep!”  
__“Once and for all if they don’t mind their manners, we’ll bleed ‘em!”_ Carmilla cried, the others echoing her.  
_“Once and for all we won’t carry no banners that don’t spell ‘freedom’.”_ Kirsch agreed.  
_“Fighting means raising the stakes.”_ They all joined in. _“This time whatever it takes! Watch how the union awakes, once and for all!”_

“In the words of union leader Carmilla Karnstein,” Laura grabbed a fresh pape off the pile and read aloud, “‘We will work with you, we will even work for you, but we will be paid, and treated as valuable members of your organization.’ Riveting stuff, huh?” She grinned as she put the pape back on the pile.  
“Get going, you got a very important man to see.” Carmilla reminded her.  
“Keep your fingers crossed.” Laura smiled.  
“For us, too.” Carmilla looked down to tie another stack of papes and Laura was gone. Everyone resumed what they were doing.

 _“This is for kids shining shoes on the street with no shoes on their feet every day. This is for guys sweating blood in the shops while their bosses and cops look away. I’m seeing kids standing tall, glaring and raring to brawl. Armies of guys who are sick of the lies, and are ready to rise to the call. Once and for all there’ll be blood on the wall if they doubt us. They think they’re running this town, but this town would shut down without us! Ten thousand kids in the square! Ten thousand fists in the air! Bill, you is gonna play fair, once and for all! Once and for all! There’s change coming once and for all, you’re getting too old, too weak to keep holding on. A new world is gunning for you, and Bill, we is, too, ‘til once and for all you’re gone!"_  

Carmilla, Danny, and Kirsch waltzed into Hearst’s office, a guard chasing after them calling ‘you can’t just barge in!’ but they did.  
“Good morning!” Carmilla grinned and smacked the single-page newsie pape on the desk, next to 4 or 5 telephones, all off the hook. Hearst glowered at her.   
“You’re behind this. We had a deal.”  
“And it came with a money-back guarantee!” She happily took the wad of money Hearst had given her from her trouser pocket and tossed it on his desk, where his assistant was picking up and reading the newsie pape. She made her tone sincere. “Oh, and thank you for your lesson on the powers of the press.”  
“Did you read this, boss?” The assistant butt in before Hearst could speak, his tone first incredulous, then impressed. “These kids put out a pretty good paper.”  
“No doubt written by my daughter.” Hearst stated, still glaring at Carmilla.  
“Oh, I would sign her before somebody else grabs her.” Carmilla was still smiling.  
“I demand to know who defied my ban on printing strike material.” Hearst thundered.  
“Oh, no, we are your loyal employees.” Carmilla held a hand to her chest. “Oh, we would never take our business elsewhere.” She may have been enjoying this a bit too much.  
“That old printing press in the cellar.” The assistant realized.  
“I made you the offer of a lifetime. Anyone who does not act in his own self-interest is a fool.” Hearst stated.    
“What’s that make you?!” Danny demanded. “This all began because you wanted to sell more papers, but now your circulation is down 70%. Why didn’t you just come talk to us?”    
“Oh, y’see Dan, guys like Bill don’t talk to nobodies like us.” Carmilla confided as Kirsch quietly ushered Hearst’s assistant and receptionist out of the room. “But I remember this reporter told me, a real boss don’t need all the answers. Nah, just the smarts enough to snatch up the right one when he hears it.” They heard singing out the window and brought Hearst over to see.    
“Have a look out there, Mr. Hearst.” Kirsch smiled. “In case you ain’t figured it out, we got you surrounded.” The newsies above and below waved to each other.   
“New York is closed for business.” Carmilla informed him, like newsies had informed them on the walk over. “Paralyzed. You can’t get a paper or a shoe shine.” She chuckled at how stricken the city was without it child workers. “You can’t send a message, ride an elevator, or cross the Brooklyn Bridge. Hell, you can’t even get out of your own office.” She smiled as Danny and Kirsch guarded the door. “So what’s your next move?”

“Mr. Hearst!” His assistant ran in. “The Mayor is here, along with your daughter, and oh! You won’t believe who else!”  
“Good morning Mr. Hearst.” The Mayor greeted as he entered. “I think you know the governor.”  
“Governor Roosevelt?” Hearst asked as the man himself entered the room.    
“William, William, William. What have you done now?” Governor Roosevelt asked. Carmilla raised her eyebrows, this was looking to be more effective than she’d hoped.  
“I’m certain when you hear my explanation you’ll know exactly-” Hearst started, but Governor Roosevelt talked right over him.    
“Well, with Miss Medda Larkin bringing your daughter to my office, I already have a thorough grasp of the situation. Graphic illustrations included. ‘Bully’ is the expression I usually employ to show approval, but in your case I simply mean: bully. And is this the girl of whom you spoke?” Laura and Medda nodded, smiling. “How are you, then? I’m told we once shared a carriage ride!” He laughed and held out a hand to Carmilla.   
“The. Pleasure is mine, Mr. Governor.” Carmilla tried not to wince at the Governor’s incredibly firm grip. She couldn’t help pulling a face when he’d turned his attention elsewhere, though.  
“Well, Bill, don’t just stand there letting those children sing. Endlessly.” Roosevelt directed. In the silence you could hear the newsies and other working kids through the glass. “Give ‘em the good news.”  
“What good news?” Hearst carefully, angrily enunciated each word.  
“That you’ve come to your senses and rolled back prices. Unless of course you want to invite a full-state senate investigation into your employment practices.” Roosevelt raised an eyebrow.   
“You wouldn’t dare!” Hearst challenged.  
“After the pressure you wielded to keep me from office? I’d do it with a smile!” Roosevelt grinned. “Come along, William, there’s only one thing worse than a hard heart, and that’s a soft head. Think of the happiness you’ll bring those children.” After a few seconds he turned to Laura. “He doesn’t do ‘happiness’, does he?” He grinned.  

“Miss Karnstein. If I may speak to you, alone.” Hearst kept his voice measured and calm.  
“Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground. You can do this.” Roosevelt advised her as he left.    
“I cannot put the price back where it was. I’m sorry, I can’t. There are other considerations.” Hearst started once the door was shut.  
“Oh, I get it, I get it, Bill. Y-you need to save face in front of all these other folks. I’m young, I ain’t stupid.”    
“Thank you for understa-”  
“But I got constituents with a legitimate gripe.” Carmilla interrupted.    
“What if I reduce the raise by half? And get the others to do the same? It’s a compromise we can all live with!”  
“But,” Carmilla pointed to him, “you eat our losses. Huh? From now on, any pape we can’t sell you buy back, full price!”  
“That was never on the table!” He thundered. “What’s to stop the newsies from taking hundreds of papers they cannot sell? My costs would explode!”  
“Hey, no newsie’s gonna break their back hauling around papes they can’t sell! But if we could take a few extra with no risk? Oh, we might sell them, and then your circulation will begin to grow! ‘It’s a compromise we can all live with!’” Carmilla imitated.    
“That’s not a bad head you’ve got on your shoulders…” Hearst mused.  
“Deal?” She asked, spitting in her palm and holding it out to shake. Hearst recoiled and for a half second Carmilla thought they’d have to negotiate some more.    
“That’s disgusting.” He protested.  
“Well, that’s just the price of doing business.” Carmilla grinned as she grabbed his hand and shook.

 Carmilla opened Hearst’s windows and leaned out them, the singing louder now.  
“Newsies of New York City!” She hollered to get their attention. “We won!” During the cheering and celebrating, their group moved own to the front steps of The Journal. Carmilla whistled to get everyone’s attention. “I would like to introduce my very own personal pal, Governor Theodore Roosevelt himself!” The newsies cheered anew as the Governor stepped forward.    
“Each generation must, at the height of its power, step aside and invite the young to share the day. You have laid claim to our world, and I believe the future, in your hands, will be bright and prosperous!” He turned to Carmilla. “Your drawings brought another matter to bear. Officers, if you please!” A paddywagon rolled out, LaFontaine waving from the open door.    
“Hey, Carmilla, look, it’s LaF!” Kirsch cried.    
“Hey guys! You miss me?” LaF grinned. “Oh, and look what I got for ya. A gift, straight from the Refuge. Bring him in, fellas!” A pair of cops wrestled Snyder forward.    
“Oh, it’s Snyder the spider! He ain’t looking so tough no more!” Natalie jeered.    
“Carmilla, with those drawings you made an eloquent argument for shutting down the Refuge.” Roosevelt told her. “Be assured that Mr. Snyder’s abuses will be fully investigated. Officers, take him away!”  
“Please, Your Highness, may I do the honors?” LaF asked, hand raised.     
“You have got to be joking!” Snyder barked.    
“Oh, yeah, and you’ll be laughing all the way to the pen little man!” LaF kicked Snyder in the rear, propelling him the rest of the way into the paddywagon. “So long, sucker! Thank you, Governor!”

“Carmilla, I’m thinking,” Hearst proposed, “if one of your drawings convinced the governor to shut down the Refuge, what might a daily political cartoon do to expose the dealings in our own governments back rooms?” He turned to the Governor. “What do you say, Teddy? Care to let this young woman’s artistry shine a lantern behind your closed doors?”    
“Alright, don’t- don’t sweat it, Gov.” Carmilla assured. “I mean, with the strike settled, I should be hittin’ the road.”  
“Don’t you ever get tired of singing the same old tune?” Danny asked. “What’s Santa Fe got that New York ain’t? Tarantulas?”  
“Or better yet,” Laura ducked under Danny's arm, “what’s New York got that Santa Fe ain’t?”  
“New York’s got us,” LaF joined in, “and we’re family.”  
“Did I not hear something about the strike being settled?” Hearst boomed.    
“Papes for the newsies, line up! Papes ain’t gonna sell themselves!” Weasel called.  
“Come on, Governor, and show me that back seat I’ve been hearing so much about!” Medda lead away a laughing Roosevelt.

“Well, don’t just stand there, you’ve got a union to run. And besides, didn’t someone just offer you a pretty exciting job?” Laura prompted.    
“What, me work for your father?” Carmilla chuckled.    
“Well, you already work for my father.”  
“Oh, yeah.”    
“And you’ve got one more ace up your sleeve.”  
“What would that be?”  
“Me. Wherever you go, I’m there, right by your side.” She wrapped an arm around Carmilla’s waist.    
“Fer sure?” She asked.    
“Fer sure.” Laura imitated.    
**“** _Don’t take much to be a dreamer. All you do is close your eyes, where some made up world is all you ever see. Now my eyes is finally open, and my dreams they’s average-sized. But they don’t much matter if you ain’t with me.”_ Carmilla grinned and captured Laura’s lips in a kiss, hoping her father wasn’t watching. The newsies whooped and hollered.  
“Well, Carmilla. Are you in or you out?” Danny asked when the pair broke apart.  
“Wh- I’m busy!” She exclaimed, the Newsies laughing. She ran up to buy her papes, triumphantly slamming down 50 cents. 


	4. PoPS!AU Carmilla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Similar to the last chapter, I thought it would be fun to put the Carmilla characters in the Platoon of Power Squadron spots, but I didn't have that much success. 
> 
> Laura - Sebastian (excitable, wants to do good, find out about their powers) Works at used book store  
> Carmilla - Jonas (powerful but tries to ignore it) Works at college book store  
> LaF - Donald (loves having powers, wants to help others) Works as taco bear  
> Perry - Virginia (protective, Mom Friend, wants everyone to be normal) Works at yarn store?   
> Dean - Damon   
> Kirsch, Danny, Mel - Veronique, Roxy, Spike

**Hypothesis the First: The Last Slice**

Perry had gone to bed first, so the other three wound up leaving the last slice of pizza in the box on the kitchen counter when they got tired and followed their curly-haired friend’s lead. That night, Carmilla had a dream. Pizza. Pizza was her destiny. She awoke in the middle of the night and went to grab the last slice of pizza in the kitchen. It was her destiny, her dream had told her so. 

She arrived to see LaFontaine reaching for it.   
“Wait!” She forgot to keep her voice down.   
“What? I'm hungry.” They grumbled.   
“This is going to sound weird, but that pizza is my destiny. I dreamt about it.”   
“Hey, I had a dream about pizza too.” LaFontaine smiled, then frowned looking at the slice. “It's not worth splitting it.” They gazed at each other. They'd argued earlier, like normal, and LaFontaine had been about to throw down over Carmilla's teasing (with Laura ready to join in if they started fighting) when Perry’d stopped them. But Perry wasn't around now.   
“You want to do this?” LaFontaine asked, raising an eyebrow, goading their friend.   
“You want to get beat up? I don't even need to use powers.”   
“I've never even seen you use your powers, I don't think you have them.”   
“You'll have to make it so hard to beat you that I have to use powers. Also, the kitchen is too small to fight in.”   
“True.” LaFontaine noted. 

Laura slipped out of her bedroom, hearing a commotion in the living room. She found Carmilla and LaFontaine facing off.  
“Yes, fighting!” She grinned, starting to push Two out.   
“Wait!”   
“No powers!” Her friends cried, but it was too late, Two was out. Laura and Two rushed the others, but soon after flew into the air, touching and pulling Two back in.   
“Hey!” Laura protested.   
“You're the one who started using powers.” Carmilla replied, eyes glowing. LaFontaine reached a hand out towards each of the distracted young women and started shocking them. 

Perry woke to the sounds of electricity crackling and Laura and Carmilla in pain and sighed, stopping time to investigate. She shuffled past the couch in the hallway and found her roommates in the living room, LaFontaine shocking Carmilla and Laura, Carmilla levitating Laura. She couldn't find any copies of Laura, so they must have been pulled back in already. She looked around for what could have made Carmilla, usually so reticent, use her powers, and found the pizza box open on the kitchen counter. She eyed her friends. They would fight over pizza, they already almost fought earlier. She threw the slice away and recycled the box before restarting time. 

“Ow!” LaFontaine got shocked by their own electricity unexpectedly bouncing back to them. No longer being held up by Carmilla, Laura fell to the floor.   
“Owww…” Laura complained, getting up.   
“Children?” Perry crossed her arms. “I threw the pizza away. Do you want to fight over trash pizza?”   
“No…” They all grumbled.   
“I was totally about to win.” Carmilla told LaFontaine as they all returned to bed, climbing over the couch.   
“What? I was literally electrocuting you! I totally won.” They protested.   
“I was just about to stop you when Perry stopped time.” She countered.   
“Yeah, right.” They scoffed.   
“That was fun, guys!” Laura grinned. 

'I might be home late tonight.’ Perry sent to their group chat the next morning.  
 **Laura:** Same, I'm going to the fertility clinic   
Perry watched LaFontaine's 'typing’ ellipses appear and disappear a few times as they struggled for words, a struggle she was also experiencing. Should she ask why? Offer words of support?   
**LaF:** Don't you have work?   
**Perry:** I'm at work, I picked up some morning shifts.   
**LaF:** Laura*   
**Laura:** Yeah. I'm going to send 3. If I still have a job *fingers crossed*. 4 wouldn't tell me anything about work yesterday, even when I pulled her in the entire day was a blank.   
**Carmilla:** Have I mentioned recently how much I hate getting the notifications for this chat?   
**Carmilla:** PS- STOP TEXTING EACH OTHER IN THE GROUP CHAT WHEN YOU'RE BOTH IN THE APARTMENT   
**Carmilla:** I should be home on time   
**LaF:** Carm, now you're the one blowing up our phones. I’ll be home on time, too   
**Perry:** Please remember to put the couch back.   
Perry sighed. Carmilla and LaFontaine in the apartment alone? She'd try to finish her errand as quickly as possible.

Laura had been hoping she still had a job as she entered the fertility clinic, but pushed the thought out of her head. She needed to focus now.  
“Hi.” The young man behind the counter smiled at her. “Welcome to the Save and Spawn fertility clinic. Can I interest you in our natural breast enhancement program?”   
“What is it?” Laura asked, distracted by the odd pitch.   
“Get pregnant.” He seemed really sincere. She pressed on with her mission.   
“I need to see my records, or probably my dad's. I need to know who my egg donor was. Last name is Hollis. H-O-L-”   
“We keep our records completely confidential, sorry.” He apologized.   
“Please?” Laura asked.   
“It’s illegal for me to tell you, little hottie.”   
“I really need to know. I'm-” She debated how to word this. She hadn't prepared enough for this. She leaned over the counter a little. “I'm different from other people, and I was hoping if I knew who my mom was, it would help me answer that question.” She smiled as the man leaned forward too.   
“I might be able to help, little hottie. I'm different too. Can you meet me at the coffee shop on the corner at around 5:15?”   
“Sure! I’m Laura, by the way.”   
“Kirsch.”   
“See you then, Kirsch!” Laura grinned as she left. Another person with powers! Who might know where they came from! 

After her double shift, Perry went to her friend Danny’s.  
“Hi Danny.”   
“Hey Perry.”   
“Any progress?” Perry asked as she entered the taller woman’s house.   
“Well, you know the blood sample you gave me? It didn’t react with anything until I accidentally spilled some Dr. Pepper in a test tube.”   
“That’s not very safe lab practice. What does reacting with Dr. Pepper mean?”   
“No clue.” Danny sighed. “I don't know what you expect me to do to find the gene that causes superpowers, I have an English degree. I only minored in Molecular BioChem to make my parents happy.”   
“We have to find the cure, Danny.” Perry stated. “They're using their powers more and more. It's unnatural. What's the next step?”   
“Well, your tissue and blood samples are completely normal, aside from the Dr. Pepper thing. I wish I could scan your brain, or biopsy it.”   
“Let's do it.”   
“Let's what?” Danny stared at her, incredulous.   
“Biopsy my brain. It'll get you closer to a cure, right?”   
“Are you crazy?”   
“All the more reason for a biopsy. You can use this.” Perry held out a long syringe she'd found. “Go through my nose, like they used to do for lobotomies.”   
“I'm going to need to do some research before I do that.” Danny was staring at the syringe.   
“Okay, so research. I can wait.” 

Perry’s phone buzzed and she pulled it out to find a text from LaFontaine.  
 **LaF:** Don't you think it's weird how we all have superpowers and ended up being roommates? No one else I know has superpowers   
**Perry:** I prefer words like 'talents’ or 'eccentricities’ to 'superpowers’. Also, do you tell other people about your ability?   
**LaF:** I was going to, but I got scared. Which is dumb, I can electrocute people and I come out as nonbinary all the time. But this is different.   
**Perry:** I don't see why it has to be different. Carmilla and I don't even use our talents much, you and Laura are the only ones that do.   
**LaF:** Back to my point about us all sharing the same apartment!   
**Perry:** Sorry, hanging out with Danny, talk later.   
Perry put her phone back in her pocket. 

“How's your research on ice pick lobotomies coming?”   
“If you're really certain, I think I'm as ready as I can get…” 

Laura grinned at Kirsch as he entered the coffeeshop.   
“Hey, did you bring the file?”   
“I told you it's illegal.”   
“I thought you were going to help me. Can you at least tell me her name?” Laura sighed.  
“I figured we could help each other.”   
“Oh, right!” She grinned again.   
“So, we might not be different in the same way, but having friends in the community is still good.”   
“We have a community?!” Her eyes went wide. How had she never heard about this?   
“Yeah.” He grinned. “You grew up pretty sheltered, huh? There's a big pride parade every summer, you can get flags and shirts and meet people and-”   
“Woah, woah, I know about that. I'm a lesbian and I have a friend who uses they them pronouns.”   
“Oh, cool.” He grinned, then looked confused. “So, if you didn't mean gay, what do you mean by 'different’?” 

“Hey Carm?” LaFontaine yelled.  
“In my room.”   
“Hey, so I was just texting Perry about our abilities-”   
“Abilities?” She raised an eyebrow and put her book down.   
“She doesn't like the word 'superpowers’.”   
“I'm surprised she even talked about them.”   
“You and her don't like yours, but I think we should be using them more.”   
“No we shouldn't. You like science, what do you think scientists would do if they found out superpowers are real?”   
“But we can hide it. Or raise awareness. Or something. I just think we can help people.”   
“You gonna electrocute little old ladies trying to cross the street?” Carmilla scoffed. “It's better to be normal. People don't need our help.”   
“I think they do. I think our destiny is bigger than… this.” They gestured around at the apartment, then turned to leave.   
“My destiny was pizza, but you ruined that.” Carmilla called after them. 

 

**Hypothesis the Second: Jobs**

**Laura:** You ass!   
**Carmilla:** What???    
**Laura:** You know how you’re always telling us to ‘be vigilant because people staring at us is bad’? This girl was just staring at me at work and I freaked out and thought she might be a gov’t spy or something.    
**Carmilla:** She might be.    
**Laura:** She wanted to ask me on a date but was nervous I might be straight! And I totally got all paranoid and freaked out on her! You had me so worried about being kidnapped or something that I forgot people check each other out!    
**Carmilla:** So, you have a date?    
**Laura:** Thankfully I didn’t freak her out too much. We’re going out tomorrow night.   
**Carmilla:** That’s pretty soon, are you sure?    
**Laura:** YES. Quit psyching me out. 

“I hate my job.” LaF groaned as they entered the apartment.   
“Mmm.” Carmilla didn’t look up from her book.    
“I did not go to college to stand outside a taco restaurant dressed up as a bear.”    
“Mmm.”    
“You ever been inside a mascot costume? Sweaty, stinky hell.”    
“Mmm.”    
“Hey, are you paying attention?” LaFontaine reached out to poke Carmilla, giving her a small shock.   
“Ow, yes.” Carmilla put her book down. “In this economy, you’re lucky to be a taco bear.”    
“You’ve never been called a fur-fag by a twelve year old for doing your job. We need real jobs.”    
“How is going somewhere for a set number of hours, providing labor, and receiving compensation in the form of money not a real job?”   
“You work at a college bookstore.”    
“I like working at a college bookstore.”   
“C’mon, it’s a college bookstore, there must be one thing about working there you hate.”    
“Well, there is this one student, JP, he comes in like every day just to argue philosophy with me.”    
“You love philosophy.”   
“I hate JP. He argues about nothing.”    
“I just think we have so much untapped potential.”   
“Not this again.” Carmilla sighed, picking her book back up. 

“LaF!” Laura pulled her friend away.  
“Hey, Laura, what?” They stumbled after.   
“I might have found a bad guy!” She pulled them in her room.   
“What kind of bad guy?”   
“Really bad.”   
“Really bad how?”   
“At the bookstore today, he was looking for books like ‘Natural Poisons’, ‘Caging Kids’, Making Kids Bleed’, ‘Planning for a Murder’. I sent Two after him, just waiting for her to come back and report where he lives and stuff.”   
“Awesome, we can go take him down when she comes back!”   
“Yes!” They high-fived, sparks flying out from the impact. Laura whimpered and held her hand.   
“Sorry. Excited.” 

“That’s rough, Karnstein.” Mel sighed.    
“So you think I’ve missed my chance?” Carmilla frowned at her coworker.    
“Well, she’s going to go out with this girl at least once, I generally go by the rule, for every date they go out on, add another week to waiting after they break up to ask her out.”    
“One week per date?”    
“Better hope they break up soon, what if this girl is a U-Haul dater?”    
“Mel, you’re not helping.” Carmilla put her head down on the counter.   
“Wow, you are girls and you have no clue how to talk to girls.” JP grinned.   
“Go away JP. I’m not in the mood for you or your accent today.” Carmilla grumbled.    
“Hey, I am a potentially paying customer. It’s rather sad how you spend so much time contemplating the meaning of life when you don’t even have your own life figured out.”   
“What about you?” Mel shot back.    
“Oh, I have my life figured out. I’m going to graduate in a few more semesters and change how we look at the world.”   
“You gonna buy anything?” Carmilla growled. “Or do I have to kick you out for loitering?”   
“Just this, then.” He tossed a book on the counter. Carmilla rang him up.    
“Someone needs to shut that little prick down.” Mel sighed as he left.    
“Good idea.” Carmilla breathed to herself. She waited about 15 minutes for him to be safely in his dorm room before telekinetically knocking him out, shielding her glowing eyes from view behind a book. “Good luck reading with your brain turned off.” She sniggered. 

“I’m back!”  
“Laura?” LaFontaine poked their head into the living room.   
“No, I’m Two.”   
“Laura!” LaFontaine called. “Two’s back!”   
“Nice!” Laura bounded out of her room, reaching out for her copy and pulling her back in. “Okay, I know where he lives. Dang, you can hear screaming when he opens the front door.” She looked at her friend worriedly.   
“Let’s get going.” They nodded seriously. 

“Okay, this is where he went.” Laura and Lafontaine stood on the sidewalk, staring at the building. It looked so normal. “What’s the plan?”   
“I figure, I’ll lay him out with a quick zap, you and Two hold him down while I rescue the kids.”   
“Got it.”   
“This is so much better than being a taco bear.” They commented as they knocked on the door. The guy opened it and LaFontaine zapped him as they pulled him out and threw him to the ground. Laura held his hands down as Two grabbed his legs and LaFontaine ran in.   
“You’re done hurting innocent children.” Laura stated.   
“What?” He asked, totally bewildered. A minute later, LaFontaine returned.   
“Did you find them?” Laura asked.   
“It’s all animals.”   
“What?” Laura stared at them, then looked back at the man. “Where are the children?”   
“What children?”   
“The children you’ve been caging and killing!” LaFontaine demanded.   
“What? I would never do that!”   
“But what about all those books you tried to buy?” Laura asked. “Natural Poisons? Caging Kids? Making Kids BLEED?”   
“I wanted to make sure we had all the antidotes for our venomous snakes, and kids is the name for baby goats, and in our petting zoo the children like when the goats BLEAT! Meeehhhh, you know?!” He explained.   
“Planning for a Murder?” Two asked.   
“Crows! A group of crows is called a murder, we’re planning on receiving a murder of crows soon!”   
“There is no way there are actual books with those titles.” LaFontaine shook their head. “Google is your friend, dude. C’mon, Laura.”   
“Well, thanks for helping anyway.” Laura shrugged as they left the building, Two reaching out to be pulled back in.   
“Yeah. I’ve got to go to work.” LaFontaine sighed, turning away. “Wish me luck.”   
“You’ve got this!” She called after them. 

**Laura:** Reminder that I'm going out tonight   
**Carmilla:** Me too   
**Perry:** Just LaF and I for dinner? You both have fun :)   
**Laura:** Thx!   
**LaF:** Good news and bad news. I quit my job today.   
**Perry:** Why???   
**Carmilla:** What's the good news?   
**LaF:** @C- see above @P- long story involving me clotheslining a middle schooler   
**Laura:** !!!!!!!!   
**Carmilla:** So proud   
**Perry:** Oh my God LaFontaine.   
**LaF:** Tell you more tonight 

“I’m really having a good time Paige, thank you for still asking me out after I was a total paranoid.” Laura chuckled.  
“Oh, yeah, I totally understand. You can’t be too careful you know? That’s why I own a doberman and have 5 locks on my door and paid for a few background checks on you before meeting.” Paige grinned. “Water’s fine for now, just water.”   
“Huh?” Laura managed. Their server wasn't anywhere nearby.   
“Sorry, totally lost my train of thought, what was I saying?”   
“I’m not really sure…” Laura trailed off, uncertain. 

Paige continued saying xenophobic, rapey, and generally off-putting things all through the night, as Laura’s smile wavered and she spoke less and less.    
“I’m just saying, is it really breaking and entering if it’s your girlfriend’s place?” Paige commented.   
“Your nose is bleeding.” Laura stated flatly. 

“I’ll cook, you talk.” Perry bargained.   
“Sure. You know the kid I’ve been complaining about who harrasses me like every day?” LaFontaine asked.   
“The one who makes fun of your costume and uh, orientation?” Perry clarified.   
“Yeah, him. Today he and his friends showed up on bikes, and they were riding really fast really close to me. Like, almost hitting me. And they wouldn’t stop, so I threw an arm across one of them as they rode by. It took both of us down, knocked the breath out of him, the kids all scattered. I went inside, gave them the costume and told them I quit. I’m just glad I didn’t electrocute anyone.” They sighed.   
“Well, I wish you’d found a new job first, but I understand why you did it.”   
“I think I’m going to go on a walk after dinner.”   
“Okay.” 

LaFontaine opened their cheap bubbly wine and drank from the bottle as they wandered down the alley behind the store. They sank to sit on the dirty asphalt, back against the brick wall. They took another swig.   
“HELP!” A woman cried nearby. They left the bottle behind as they ran towards the voice. Two guys were struggling with a young woman for her purse.   
“Hey!” LaFontaine yelled.   
“Get lost.” One of the guys responded.   
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to have to beat you up.” They shrugged.   
“Yeah right. You have two seconds to leave. One…”   
“Two. You have no idea the kind of day I’ve had. Seriously, leave her alone or face the consequences.” They looked toward one of the guys as he left his partner with the woman. They threw their fingers apart to kickstart their electricity, but it didn’t work. The guy socked them in the gut and they bent over in pain. He turned around to get back to mugging and, unable to use their powers, they punched him in the side. He went down, grimacing and holding where he’d been hit. The other guy attacked, knocking LaFontaine down, but they gained the upper hand and and took him down, as well. They stood up to find the woman just standing there. “Run.” They told her, and she did. They turned around to figure out what to do with the muggers and got punched in the face, going down as the guy laughed. They kept up with him for a few seconds until his partner grabbed them in a choke hold and the first guy started treating their stomach like a punching bag.   
“You should have minded your own business.” The guy behind them stated.   
“This is my business.” They rasped. Suddenly their powers kicked on, burning the guy’s arm they were holding onto.   
“What?” The other guy asked, staring at their hands, which seemed to be gloved in blue-white electricity. LaFontaine shrugged and quickly dispatched the guys again, one punch each sending them flying, just before their powers turned off. The muggers got up and each took out a switchblade.   
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” LaFontaine sighed as they advanced from either side. After a terrifying knife fight, one guy was down again and Lafontaine was fighting the other, knife on the ground. He backed them against the wall, forearm across their throat. They struggled to push him off for a second, before extending two fingers and shocking him in the eyes. As he went down and stumbled away, his partner got up again, knife in hand. LaFontaine threw their hands out, shocking the guy in his torso. He spasmed and crumpled. “Stay there, okay?” They breathed. He smoked. “Aw, shit.” They nudged him with their foot, then knelt down to check his pulse. “C’mon, bad guy.” They started CPR, but stopped after a couple repetitions to pace. They rushed back, clapping their hands together then on the guy’s chest, pumping electricity into him. They stopped when he started to cough. “Hey, welcome back!” They grinned at him. “Uh, don’t do crime, okay?” They ran back home. 

“Quixotic on a triple word score.” Carmilla stated smugly, laying down her last Scrabble tile.    
“I knew I shouldn’t have picked a word game to play with you.” Perry grumbled, adding to Carmilla’s points on their scoresheet. Laura shuffled into the apartment, quiet and subdued.    
“Hey, how was your date?” Carmilla asked.    
“Awesome.” Laura stated flatly, grabbing chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen. “Best date ever. I don’t want to talk about it.”    
“Clearly something happened, but if you don’t want to talk about it right now, I won’t push.” Perry frowned.    
“Glad you had a good time.” Carmilla smiled at Laura.    
“Guess who just stopped a mugging!” LaFontaine crowed as they strode in.    
“Night.” Laura muttered, taking the cookies to her room.    
“I don’t want to hear.” Perry went to her room as well.    
“You stopped a mugging?” Carmilla asked, impressed.    
“Yup. Totally a superhero now. I shocked a guy so hard he died.” They bragged. Carmilla stared at them, openmouthed. “It was really tiring, though. I think I need to go to bed.”    
“Wait he died?” She asked as they left.    
“Don’t worry, I brought him back.” They called.    
“Oh, right.” Her eyes glowed as she brought JP back to consciousness. 


	5. Akumanette Pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For last year's EAD I posted most of what I had written for an Akumanette fic, unsure if I'd finish it. This is a continuation of that, so in order to know what's going on, you should probably read https://archiveofourown.org/works/13694985/chapters/31455594  
> Fingers crossed I finish this story before EAD 2020!

“Plagg, do you have any idea what Akumas eat?” Adrien asked as he set the jar on a bookshelf.  
“It had better not be Camembert.” The Kwami replied. “I hate sharing.” Adrien sighed and sat down at his computer to do some searching. Hopefully Akumas acted like regular butterflies when they weren't turning people into supervillains.

…

Marinette woke to her alarm the next morning, confused. She got out of bed but fell back with a yelp, having forgotten about her Miraculous earrings on the floor and stepped on them. Luckily they weren't damaged. She sighed. She had to transform one more time to wake everyone up and fix everything she’d screwed up before giving the earrings to Chat somehow. She put the earrings in their little octagonal case and in her purse.

“Oh, Marinette.” Her mama gave her a hug when she went downstairs. “We weren't sure if you'd be going to school today.”  
“Mmhmm. I want to see all my friends.” And hopefully had a test to retake, but her parents didn't need to know that.  
“Well.” Her mother looked away for a second. “Keep in mind some of them won't be there.”  
“Yeah, I know.” She sighed. “I might stop by the hospital after school.”  
“That's your choice, darling.” Her papa rumbled as he gave her a hug.  
“Thank you papa, but who's watching the shop?”  
“It’ll be fine for a minute.” Marinette smiled as her mama rolled her eyes good-naturedly and slipped out to man the counter.

Marinette sighed as she entered campus and the bell rang. She trudged up to class, wondering who would be taking Madame Bustier's place. She tried to keep her cup of coffee hidden as she entered, holding it by the top next to her leg. Showing up late was one thing, showing up late with coffee was worse. Chloe did it occasionally and was always surprised when the teachers reprimanded her.  
“I'm sorry, good morning.” She greeted. Coach D’Argencourt was sitting at the teacher's desk.  
“No worries, Marinette. We're having a study period kind of day.” Marinette nodded and shifted her hold on her coffee to a more stable one before turning to take her seat. She paused and her shoulders dropped when she saw the attendance of her class. Sabrina was sitting alone; Nino, Adrien, and Alya were there; but almost everyone who sat in the back part of the classroom was absent. Ivan, Mylene, Rose, Juleka, Max, Nathanael, Alix, Kim… She sighed and sat next to Alya, who rubbed her shoulder.  
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Ladybug will be back soon to set everything right.” Alya whispered, Marinette’s hand went to her bag. She wished she had Alya’s confidence.

Marinette was studying to hopefully retake yesterday's test when Nino yawned and stretched, one of his hands disappeared under their desk. A second later Alya had a folded piece of paper in her hand and passed it to Marinette; it had a letter M on the outside. She opened it, glancing down at Nino, smiling when she saw his tablet open to an origami website, his half of the table covered in little paper animals. Either Coach hadn't noticed, or he didn't care. When opened, the paper was covered with questions and assurances from both Nino and Adrien. She smiled and pulled out a new piece of paper, quietly tearing it into top and bottom halves. She wrote responses to the guys, folded the papers in half, and wrote their names on the outside. Then she gathered her other papers and “spilled” them off her table and down the stairs. (Her reputation for clumsiness came in handy occasionally.)

“Oh no! Sorry!” She started gathering them up and Adrien bent down to help. He straightened and turned to her, blocking Coach’s view. She surreptitiously passed him the notes underneath the papers he returned to her. She returned to her seat and let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Alya gently punched her arm with a grin for interacting with Adrien. Marinette was certain her friend was going to overanalyze the 1 second silent interaction.

Adrien frowned during lunch at the small size of his class. The hospital was taking care of everyone who was affected by Sandman, but he expected them to wake up when he captured the Akuma. And what if Ladybug was one of those asleep? He needed her to purify the Akuma and wake everyone, which she couldn't do if she was asleep. He'd assumed the magic from their Miraculouses would keep them safe from that sort of thing, but they had been affected by an Akumatized person before, so he figured this wasn't much different. He sighed. He'd already asked Plagg about it, but the Kwami couldn't tell him anything other than that Ladybug’s Kwami was okay. Which he already knew from her helping him.

Marinette excused herself from Alya and ducked into a storage closet. She pulled the little earring case out and stared at it. It was impossible for her to screw this up, she just had to use her Lucky Charm and Miraculous Ladybug. But what about the Akuma? She had to purify it, too. She took a deep breath and put the earrings on, Tikki appearing.  
“Marinette!” The Kwami nuzzled her cheek. “I missed you, I was so worried-”  
“Tikki, I have a question.”  
“Yes?” She smiled.  
“If I were to use Lucky Charm and Miraculous Ladybug, that would wake everyone?”  
“Mmhmm! It fixes everything the Akuma did!” Tikki reiterated what Marinette already knew.  
“What about the Akuma itself? I still need to purify it.”  
“Chat Noir has the Akuma, it's safe, it won't hurt anyone else.”  
“But how will I let him know I’m back and can purify it?”  
“Can't you use your phone?” The Kwami asked.  
“No, we don't have each other's phone numbers because of my insistence to keep our identities a secret. I could always make a Ladybug email account or something, but how would I tell Chat to make one except in person?”  
“I can’t help with that part.” Tikki frowned.  
“Well, before lunch ends, _transforme-moi_.”

Tikki zipped into her earrings as she changed into Ladybug. She looked at her magical yoyo for a second before throwing it to the ceiling, whispering ‘Lucky charm!’ as she prayed for it to work. A pair of ladybug-patterned walkie-talkies fell into her hands. “Oh, of course.” She muttered sarcastically. Even magic was trying to help her communicate with Chat. “Miraculous Ladybug!” She tossed the walkie-talkies back up, where they turned into a cloud of ladybugs that swept out to fix everything. “Tikki, _detransforme-moi_ .” She caught the Kwami when she reappeared. “So the people in the hospital should wake up now, right?”   
“Mmhmm!” Tikki assured her.  
“That’s one thing taken care of. Now I just need to purify the Akuma.” And somehow give her earrings to Chat Noir. “I saved you a couple cookies in my purse if you want.”  
“Thank you, Marinette!” Tikki quickly phased into Marinette’s bag and the teen left the closet. She felt bad about keeping a secret from the Kwami, but she honestly felt like it was the best decision.

“Girl, where were you?” Alya greeted as Marinette returned to the table. “You alright?” She asked quieter.  
“Yeah, I’m good. Hey, you know how you always get the best footage of Ladybug and Chat Noir, but I’m always, y’know…”  
“Scared, trapped, or turned into a minion?” Alya summed up. “You have the worst luck.”  
“Yeah. I’m thinking of making Chat Noir a little gift to say thank you. If I do it, could you try to give it to him for me?”  
“Oh, do you have a crush on Chat now? Adrien will be heartbroken.” Alya teased.  
“Sssshhhhhh!” Marinette covered her friend’s mouth, glancing around for Adrien. Alya laughed. “Besides, I could never have a crush on Chat, he’s so cocky and overconfident, and makes terrible puns all the time.”  
“Yeah. Okay.” Alya said sarcastically, unconvinced. “But if you want me to give him a present from you I can try.”  
“Not from me. From a- well, not a secret admirer. But anonymous. I don’t want him to know it’s from me.”  
“You’re going to make Paris’ superhero a present and not tell him who it’s from? Maybe you don’t have a crush on him, if you’re going to throw away a chance to start up a relationship.”  
“That’s what I told you five seconds ago.” Marinette rolled her eyes good-naturedly.  
“Relax, girl. So do you have any ideas what you’re going to give him?”  
“What do you give a superhero to say ‘thank you for saving me’?” Marinette mused. It would keep Alya occupied for a little while.

After lunch Marinette was asked to go to the Principal's office. Her friends gave her thumbs-ups as she left the classroom. She knocked on the door to Monsieur Damocles’ office, nervously entering when he called for her.  
“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng. I hope I didn't interrupt anything. Are you prepared to retake your test?”  
“Oh! Yes, sir! Thank you for the opportunity!”  
“Wonderful. If you could leave your phone here, I’ll give you the test and you can take it in the empty classroom next door.”  
“Thank you, sir.”

Marinette didn't breeze through the test, but she didn't struggle with every question, either. Once she had checked every answer she returned to Mssr. Damocles’ office.  
“Mademoiselle, I have some good news.” He smiled as he handed her phone back. “Ladybug has returned and woken everyone that was sent to sleep yesterday.”  
“That's wonderful.” Marinette grinned. “Everyone's okay? Mme. Bustier?”  
“Should be back in school tomorrow.”  
“Thank you for telling me.”

“See? Everything's fine.” Tikki barely waited until Marinette was in the hall to pop out.  
“Tikki!” Marinette hissed. The Kwami was usually so much more careful.  
“Everything's okay, Marinette. You can do this.” She smiled.  
“Yes, okay, thank you, but we are at school and I need to get back to class!” Marinette explained. Tikki returned to her purse and Marinette sighed as she walked back to class. She knew Tikki was trying to calm her nervousness and boost her confidence, but the hallway was not the place for that.

She smiled at her friends and gave them a thumbs-up as she returned to her seat.  
“Did you hear the good news?” Alya whispered, leaning over.  
“I heard that everyone woke up.” Marinette leaned over, too.  
“Ladybug fixed everything! She's back!”  
“Volume, Mademoiselle Cesaire.” Coach didn't even look up from the book he was reading. After school Marinette excused herself from her friends early, saying she needed a nap. Once home, she made an email account for Ladybug and wrote the address on a piece of paper that she stuck in her purse.

“How am I supposed to let Ladybug know I have an Akuma that needs to be purified?” Adrien asked Plagg.  
“How would I know?”  
“Can't you talk to Tikki telepathically or something?”  
“Hardly. We can sense each other, but not much more than that, kid.”  
“I wish we could call each other using something other than our Miraculous weapons. It's a little short-sighted that we can only talk to each other while both transformed.”  
“You're the ones who decided to keep your identities secret from each other.” Plagg reminded him.  
“And now I'm regretting that decision. I can't just bring an Akuma in a jar with me everywhere I go in case someone else is Akumatized and I see Ladybug again.”  
“You could tell her next time you see her.”  
“I guess. What other option do I have?” He sighed.

...

A few days later, Chat Noir and Ladybug met up again, though Ladybug was a bit later than Chat would have liked.  
“Sorry, Kitty.” Ladybug pulled him to his feet after he landed hard.  
“Good to have you back, Milady.”

They defeated the new Akuma fairly soon after that, and Ladybug gave Chat her new email address, instructing him to make one himself before running off to detransform.  
“Email, why didn't I think of that?” He rolled his eyes at himself.

That afternoon Adrien typed up the first email to Ladybug. Then he added a couple puns. Then he took one out. Then he added a flirty line and immediately deleted it. He groaned.  
“Why are you so worried? It's just Ladybug.” Plagg asked.  
“Exactly! It's Ladybug! Now we can contact each other any time, whether we're transformed or not. And I want this to be perfect.”  
“Did you ask why she made one? Did you tell her you have the Akuma from when she was gone?”  
“Both, and asked when and where we can meet for her to purify it.”  
“Then quit being such a hopeless romantic and send it.”  
“I guess it's as good as it's going to get.” Adrien sighed, hitting 'send’.

Marinette's phone chimed and she grinned to see it was a new email sent to her new account. A new email titled 'Purr-fect idea Milady’. She rolled her eyes with a sigh and a smile. She answered his questions and sent her response. After a few exchanges they agreed to meet at the observation deck on the Eiffel tower at 11pm for Ladybug to purify the Akuma.

Ladybug leaned on the railing, looking out at the lights of Paris. She had arrived 10 minutes early, having told her parents she was going to bed and turning off her light.  
“The city's almost as beautiful as you.” Chat Noir commented as he perched on the railing. Ladybug rolled her eyes, smiling.  
“You have the Akuma?” She asked, standing straight.  
“Yeah.” He pulled out a glass jar with the purple-black butterfly inside.  
“Let's do this.” She grabbed her yoyo. Chat nodded and unscrewed the jar, the Akuma flying out. Marinette quickly captured and purified it. “Bye-bye, little butterfly.” She sighed as it flew off. “And bye-bye to you too, Chat.” Marinette waved as she used her yoyo to rappel down the tower.  
“Hey, wait, where are you going?” He chased after her, leaping down, clinging to the rust-red metal.  
“Home.” She answered simply. Being Ladybug still felt kind of like lying, like she didn't deserve it anymore.  
“I was kind of hoping we could talk.” Chat replied. Marinette looked at him, somewhat surprised.  
“Meet you on the ground.” She said.

“Where were you the other day?” Chat asked when they landed. “Another secret mission?”  
“You could say that.” Ladybug hedged. “Why?”  
“I was worried about you. I thought maybe Sandman had put you to sleep.”  
“Well, I'm glad you managed without me.” She tried to smile confidently.  
“Only because Tikki was there to help.”  
“You met Tikki?”  
“Yeah, she seems like a much better friend than my Kwami. Plagg just wants to lay around and eat smelly cheese all the time.” He chuckled.  
“She didn't tell me about helping you, I’ll have to ask her about it later.”  
“I'm sure she just didn't want you to be jealous of missing time hanging out with me.” He smiled, trying to flirt. When Ladybug didn't respond, he continued. “Tikki helped me deakumatize one of m- the girls from a nearby school.” He stumbled over his words a bit. Marinette nodded.  
“I saw the videos on the LadyBlog. You did good.”  
“Thanks.” They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds.  
“Sorry, Chat, I really should get home.”  
“Yeah, sure, sorry for keeping you. I’ll see you around.”  
“See you.” Marinette felt a twinge of guilt at the lie of omission as she threw her yoyo to a nearby rooftop. That night Marinette played a game on her phone until Tikki was asleep, then put her earrings in their case, wrapped it, and put it in her purse. She already missed the Kwami, but someone who was susceptible to Akumatization shouldn't be a superhero. Everyone seemed to consider her the leader of the duo, but Chat Noir had never been Akumaktized.

“Marinette’s not late for once.” Chloe tittered the next day. Marinette and her friends just rolled their eyes.  
“Oh, Alya, I have the present for Chat Noir.” Marinette pulled the small package from her purse.  
“Present for Chat Noir?” Adrien asked, the boys turning around to talk to them.  
“I bet he gets tons.” Nino said. “He's a cool dude, everyone likes him. Same with Ladybug. Hey, Adrien, have you given Ladybug any presents?” He teased.  
“Shut up.” Adrien lightly punched Nino’s shoulder. “Besides, I don't think they have very many presents from fans. It's not like Ladybug and Chat Noir have an address for people to send stuff.”  
“True, which is why I've asked Alya to give Chat his present in person.” Marinette smiled.  
“What is it?” Alya asked, gently shaking it next to her ear.  
“That's between me and Chat Noir.”  
“Aw, what's it hurt to tell us?” Nino smiled.  
“I'm not telling.” Marinette stated with an easy shrug.  
“I’ll do my best to give it to him.” Alya assured, tucking it in her bag.  
“Alright, time for class.” Madame Bustier called, closing the door to the classroom. The guys turned around with a sigh.

That afternoon Marinette went up to her room after school. She put her backpack down, took her books out, checked her phone… Something was off. She looked around, but everything seemed to be in place. Her bed was how she’d left it, her desk, windows… A reddish bird flew by and Marinette realized what was different. Tikki wasn’t here. She sighed and pulled her homework out.

The next few days were relatively normal, aside from Marinette missing Tikki. Then, one day during lunch, the students heard screaming outside. Half of them ran towards the screaming, half of them away from it. Marinette ran to hide, then froze. Part of her wanted to call Tikki to transform, but she’d given her Miraculous earrings to Alya, who’d run toward the action, phone in hand. And even if she could transform, she’d lost the worthiness of being a Miraculous holder when she got Akumatized. She sank to the floor and pulled out her phone, opening the Ladyblog’s live video.

“No sign of Ladybug yet.” Alya commentated, keeping the camera on Chat Noir. “If she doesn’t show up, this will be the second time in a month Chat battles an Akuma solo, but we know he’ll succeed!” Marinette bit her lip at that. Chat didn’t even have Tikki’s help this time. The fighting moved a few blocks down and Alya turned off the live feed, presumably to chase after. She waited and watched Chat Noir fight the Akuma, using his Cataclysm to distract the person enough to defeat them and capture the Akuma.  
“Chat! Chat Noir!” Alya called, running over. “Present for you!”  
“A present? What a purr-fect way to end this adventure.” He focused his attention on her. Alya gave him the small box, telling him it was a thank you present from someone he saved, zooming in on his face and hands as he opened it. His grin fell as he saw the box and what it held. A second later his ring beeped. “Sorry, gotta go!” He ran off. Alya panned her camera to record his exit before ending the livestream.

“Plagg, _detransforme-moi_.” He barely waited until the Kwami was separated from him before opening the octagonal box, so similar to his own, and asking if these earrings were what he thought they were.  
“I'm tired and hungry, can't I have some Camembert first?” He groaned.  
“Plagg!” Adrien shoved the earrings in the little creature's face.  
“These are Ladybug’s Miraculous earrings.” He stated. “She gave them to you?”  
“Yeah. Alya said it was a present from someone I helped, a way to say thank you, but…” He trailed off, frowning at the simple black earrings. “Wait, earlier this week Marinette gave Alya a present for Chat Noir to say thank you for saving her. That’s why I was keeping an eye out for her today. Plagg, are you certain these are Ladybug's Miraculous earrings? They're not a recreation or anything?”  
“They're the real deal, kid. Tikki’s in there.” Adrien looked up as someone knocked on the door and tried the knob of the single-person bathroom he'd ducked into to detransform.  
“Occupied!” He said loudly before turning back to Plagg. “So, Marinette is Ladybug? What do I do with her earrings? Can I give them back?”  
“You can try.” Plagg shrugged.  
“Ugh, you're no help.” Adrien opened his button-down for Plagg to hide in, leaving the bathroom and heading back to school.  
“What about my Camembert?” The Kwami complained.  
“I have some in my locker.” He pulled his phone out, sending an email to Ladybug's account.

Marinette’s phone dinged and she checked it since classes weren't back in session yet. She winced as she saw it was an email from Chat. She'd forgotten about that.  
' **I have something of yours, and I’m pretty sure I know who you are. When and where can we meet? I need to return this to you.** ' Her head fell back. She wished she could talk to Tikki about this.  
' **Okay. Meet me at the balcony of 12 Rue Gotlib at 11 tonight.** ' She stared at her phone, debating. Should she invite Chat Noir to her house, practically her bedroom? She had told him her address before, as Marinette. But if he suspected someone else of being Ladybug, this would definitely get him suspecting her. But it wasn’t like she could easily sneak out anymore, or get up on the roofs where she and Chat usually met up. Without Tikki’s help, she worried she’d trip and fall off the roof. She sighed and hit ‘send’. 

Adrien returned to school, leaving Plagg in his locker with an entire wheel of Camembert. He headed to class, hoping to get a look at Marinette’s earrings. 12 Rue Gotlib was the bakery her parents owned, and the flat above where they lived, but he wanted to be certain. Ladybug may be trying to hide her identity still. 

“Adrien’s been staring at you like, all day.” Alya informed her as their last class finished.  
“What? All day? Why are you only telling me now?” Marinette flailed in surprise and anxiety.   
“I was waiting for you to catch him. And because this is how you act when I tell you. He was kinda intense about it, are you guys cool?”  
“We are! I mean, I think we're cool. What do you mean he was intense?”  
“He wasn't smiling.”  
“What if he hates me for some reason?” Marinette worried, then glared as her best friend chuckled.  
“I doubt he hates you. Probably he's just thinking about something, maybe trying to think of how to finally ask you out!” Alya teased. 


End file.
